Well of the Five Kings
by jinjyaa
Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him. Final chapter.
1. Cracks in the Well

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

This is an AU of my _Bedding of Wolfram / Epilogue_ universe. For my beloved illustrators! Schnickeldooger, who wanted an AU of an AU, and Bananam00n, who wanted to see more of Wolfred. Who is dead. But we already know my track record with the dead. Heh.

Set after _The Ghosts of Trondheim_. Wolfram's grandfather Wolfred appears in _Shining Moments_.

Please see the "homepage" link on my author profile for story summaries, illustrations, portraits, and character bios. I've added new illustrations since _Ghosts_, by me and Schnickeldooger! (Check out Schick's _Greta's Bikini!_)

**Chapter 1 – Cracks in the Well**

Wolfram strolled down the corridor in Blood Pledge Castle, arm in arm with Greta, laughing about Günter's starstruck new infatuation with –

Wolfram strolled down the corridor in Castle Bielenfeld, arm around Dietrich's waist. "So, Grandfather taught me another rope trick. Let's get the silk ropes out again tonight in bed, hm? C'mon, Diet, you know you want me to!" He nuzzled the taller youth's ear, chuckling.

Dietrich flushed an adorable pink, and smiled. "Mm, well… No marks this time?"

Wolfram took him by the shoulders and gave him a kiss. "I promise, Sweet Diet. None that'll show, anyway," he said with a grin.

-- Wolfram stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide, sweat prickling out along his spine. Greta, caught up short, looked on in concern. "Chichiue Wolfram? What is it?"

"I – Nothing." Wolfram wiped a hand across his brow. He smiled wanly at his daughter. "I'm sorry, Greta. Perhaps I should go lie down a bit. I didn't sleep well last night," he lied.

"Oh! I hope you feel better soon!" said Greta. The teenager gave him a quick hug and kiss before they parted.

Wolfram did go to his room and lie down. But his head and heart were racing in panic.

_No transition, no nothing. Between one step and the next, I wasn't just somewhere else, I was some_one_ else! So vivid! Little Dietrich, all grown up to my age! And I… _

Wolfram's face was crimson in embarrassment. Wolfram's step-brother Dietrich was only 30 years old, an angelic and earnest boy, the size of a human eight year old. The vision-Dietrich was Wolfram's own age, around 90, but unmistakably the same boy grown up into… a lovely young man. Pale blond hair with pale blue streaks, so thick and wavy as to be almost bushy, but carefully layered to thin its bulk. A subtle elfin tilt to his big green eyes, still-cute straight nose and dimples, wide generous mouth, and a slender runner's build, a couple inches taller than Wolfram. Picturing Diet that way, Wolfram could still feel the powerful physical attraction.

He gulped, frightened. _Why in Shinou's name would I imagine myself as__** lovers**__ with __**Dietrich? **__Imagination? It felt completely real, and I believed in it! I had every intention of doing – _**that **_– to him! And I expected him to let me!_

He clearly remembered how he'd intended to tie Dietrich up. All in love and pleasure-seeking, not cruelty. And then he'd – _If Yuuri did that to me, it would be… Wow, but – Did I see that in Yuuri's sex manual or something? Surely __**I **__didn't think that up!_

_Sweet Shinou, do I really feel that way about Dietrich? _In fact, he did not. _Am I some kind of pedophile deep inside?_ Far from it._ Is this some kind of symptom, of wanting to be more dominant in bed? _In fact, he always wished Yuuri would be more dominant. _Should I talk to –_

Wolfram blanched. He couldn't speak of a hallucination of tripping Dietrich into bed, not with Yuuri, not with _anyone._ Least of all with his father Manfred, sweet Diet's stepfather! Manfred was the one Wolfram usually confided in when he was… afraid he was losing his mind…

He hugged himself into a ball on the bed. _Oh, Chichiue, what's wrong with me?_

-oOo-

Dietrich's father, Aldrich von Trondheim von Bielenfeld, stood and stretched the kinks out, after stooping so long gardening in the family cemetery behind Castle Bielenfeld. He'd been taking out the spent annuals around the graves of his late wife Glynda and Manfred's father Wolfred, taking advantage of a rare warm November afternoon. He bent down again to pick up his tools –

He bent down again to pick a late flower, and stood to affix it to Glynda's bushy long platinum blond hair. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the nose.

"Why, thank you, my love," she purred. "Hm, the graves look so much better. Did Manfred like flowers a great deal?" she asked, looking at Manfred's grave. "Wolfred plants so many flowers here."

Aldrich shook his head sadly. "I don't really know. I wish we'd gotten to know him better."

– And between one blink and the next, Aldrich was gazing at Wolfred's and Glynda's grave monuments, instead of Manfred's. He sank to his knees, staring at the names on the graves, hand to his mouth, fighting to keep his gorge down, to not vomit, not pass out, heart pounding, beating like a drum in his ears. Tears poured down his cheeks.

_Glyn!_ he screamed inside in anguish.

She'd looked just as he'd imagined she would when they were middle-aged, beautiful and gracious and smiling, ever gardening by his side. As he'd imagined on their wedding day, that is. The insane and tortured Glynda who'd actually been his wife for a century, before she took her own life, was a bitter shadow of the poised lady who… should have been.

_Wolfred!_ he cried out within.

Wolfred had been forty-five years older than Aldrich, the son of Aldrich's elder half brother, who died before the Aldrich was born. Aldrich and Wolfred had adored each other. His death when Aldrich was 90 had rocked Aldrich's world to its foundations, and even more so the worlds of Wolfred's son Manfred, and grandfather Friedrich. Aldrich had taken several years' leave from the army, ostensibly to start his training as Wolfred's replacement as heir to Bielenfeld. But really, he did it to stay close to his grieving father, and try to connect to the child Manfred, who refused the heirship. The child had seemed to be shutting down, drifting out of reach.

_Manfred!_ he sobbed.

The man he'd found solace in when he was grown, when the military and Glynda and Cecilie had nearly broken the both of them. Manfred his beloved husband who _was_, instead of that vibrant healthy wife Glynda who never had been. To remember Manfred's _grave_…

Aldrich sobbed in the garden for a long time.

-oOo-

Günter von Krist was humming away happily, dusting his office, daydreaming about his encounter with the _inspiring_ young officer Chad last night in the baths. Chad's ribs and abdominals and _shapely_ gluteals, reminded him so of Giesela's late father Jans! Günter sighed dreamily and picked up Jans's portrait, showing vivid green hair and dancing yellow eyes. Günter was scarce aware when this reverie turned into something else –

Günter Lord Krist, renegade leader of the Krist and Khrennikov liberation guerrilla forces, stood triumphantly atop a rise in eastern Krist, gazing down at the Mizrati occupation army of… _sitting ducks_. He grinned darkly at Jans. Long ago grown up and hardened from the poet youth in Günter's picture, this seasoned resistance fighter returned Günter's dark grin, with feral intensity. _Human bloodbath tonight! Yes!_

-- Günter shook his head slightly to clear the cobwebs, and put the picture back down. _How strange. Whyever would I imagine my darling Jans like__** that**__. Of course we were soldiers in the Great War, but… defending ourselves against the trolls was hardly… Jans was…_ The all-too-familiar bloodlust he'd felt in his vision, lain dormant in him for so many years, settled back to sleep as Günter drifted into another reverie, a memory of Giesela as a toddler catching fireflies. Jans anxiously ran around after her, begging her not to hurt them, apologizing to each insect as she released her hostages. Granted, Günter had also stood back to back with Jans as he killed Trond trolls and elves and goblins, with skill and gusto, but… _This_ was the Jans he chose to remember, the firefly's champion. He easily set the strange daydream aside.

-oOo-

Gwendal was hiding his knitting from his wife Annissina in his office, when the experience came over him.

He was in the same room of the castle, his office. But several broken windows were boarded. The drapes were discolored with age, and moth-eaten. The walls were all-over spidered with mildew, large seeping damp areas in the plaster, and outright holes in the ceiling from leaks. His usual tall stacks of paperwork, the vehicles of administration for the government of Shin Makoku, were supplanted by only a few pages. Yet Gwendal was taking a break from even that scant work, fidgeting with the tiny knitted animals he kept in his shrine atop an old cabinet. This little zoo kept his portrait of the loved and lost Annissina company. He murmured dialog between Clever Kitty and Pampered Pig and his late fiancé. It didn't matter when or whether the paperwork got done. The visiting Boy King was off on another pointless quest. Gwendal helped Pampered Pig tell Annissina about Cunning Kitty's latest mouse hunt.

Not for worlds would Gwendal have shared _that _vision. He locked his door and hunkered down to some serious knitting, to soothe his jangling nerves.

Cecilie, in the nursery playing with her grandchildren, suddenly found herself in the same nursery, but echoingly, heartbreakingly empty, as it had been ever since the day Wolfred arrived at the head of an army, and ripped Wolfram from her arms, and taken him away forever. The day her life was destroyed. Cecilie stared unseeing out the cracked window at the unkempt garden. She rocked ever so slightly back and forth, back and forth. She told herself she should go out and cut the grass, prepare the flower beds for the coming winter. But she only rocked and stared. She hadn't tended that flower bed in nearly 90 years. And eventually, there were no servants left to do it, either.

When she came back to herself, Cecilie didn't excuse herself to think the experience over. She was far too busy hugging and kissing Gwendal's son, placid baby Grendel, and Wolfram's youngest two, the Yuuri-like newborn Ekaterin, and Wolfram-like toddler Bertram. Indeed, she couldn't tear herself away from them. She stayed a quarter hour after they'd fallen asleep for their naps. Then she strode out to re-check her flower beds' preparation for winter. She had of course already prepared them. But her perennials were that precious to her, especially the Secret Gwendal, Conrad-Stands-Upon-the-Earth, Beautiful Wolfram, and Cheri's Sigh. Perhaps they didn't need to receive any more attention, but she needed to give it.

-oOo-

Unlike Wolfram, Efram hadn't the slightest compunction against relaying his experience to their father Manfred. Wolfram's younger half-brother, an adolescent just over 50, Efram was as effervescent as Wolfram was moody. He waited for the hubbub to die down, settling in to supper – it didn't take long, as the Lords of Bielenfeld were strangely subdued tonight – and launched into his story.

"Chichiue, I had the weirdest experience this afternoon! I was just sitting there, doodling my way through a nobility lecture, and suddenly, bam! I was here in the castle, except I wasn't me! I was in the audience room, sitting the throne, with Garena standing at my right shoulder." Garena was Manfred's secret _other_ father, kept secret that none would know that his father Wolfred was his… mother. In a sense.

"So this Squire and plantation factor are addressing _me_ as _'King Wolfred',_ and giving me this song and dance about how they hadn't_ really_ lied and underpaid their taxes." Efram laughed, and provided hand gestures to go with the dialog. "So I tell them, 'Oh, that's _OK_, darlings! Because I'm not_ really_ throwing you into the dungeon until you get your _heads_ out of your asses. _It's just a misunderstanding._ Guards, seven nights in the grade _C_ catered facilities below. _Next!_' "

The _'King'_ part was a bit affected, but not wrong. The monarchies of Bielenfeld and Trondheim joined Shin Makoku as allies, unlike the other domains who'd received their lands from the Maou. The two domains' rulers technically remained full royalty, simply _choosing_ to bow a knee to the Maou. Or not, as the case may be. Aldrich's father Friedrich had been notorious for withholding taxes from Cecilie's administration whenever Stoeffel pissed him off.

Manfred snarfed his water. "That _does_ sound like my father, doesn't it, Aldrich?" he said laughing, then quirked an eyebrow at his husband, who looked more spooked than amused by this story. Aldrich had been uncharacteristically quiet tonight. So Manfred turned back to Efram to carry the dinner conversation. "King Wolfred, huh? With Garena openly by his side? After Winterfair, let's hope you get a better nobility lecturer."

Efram grinned rueful agreement. The professor was a real snooze. There wasn't a Lord at this table who wasn't way ahead of him, including the squirts – Aldrich's young son Dietrich and foster-son Trenton von Gratz. Efram figured he learned more at the supper table in a month than his yokel professor would ever know. "But what was weird, Chichiue, is that it wasn't like a daydream or anything. I wasn't _imagining_ being 'King Wolfred'. I just _was_ 'King Wolfred', like Efram had never existed. And then bam! No woozy bits or anything, I'm back in the classroom. And you know what's_ really _freaky?"

Efram paused for dramatic effect, and raised his eyebrows at the squirts to draw them in. Trenton looked intrigued. Dietrich seemed to be shrinking into his chair back for some reason. Efram forged ahead. "My hand _hadn't stopped drawing!_ So I was doodling this centaur – heck, I'd intended it to be a she, but hadn't got there yet. And there it was, in somebody else's style, really hung, er, well, definitely male!" He triumphantly produced the picture and laid it before his father.

Manfred skewered his second-born son with a look. "Is this drawing appropriate for formal dress dinner. Lord Efram."

"Ah – whoops, sorry," said Efram, trying to snatch the picture back with a grin.

Manfred slapped aside Efram's hand, to examine the picture briefly. And he frowned. That really wasn't Efram's drawing style. The linestrokes were bold and dark, strong single-stroke curved lines, where Efram would have used several light strokes of a pencil to make it around the bend. "You're making this up," he hazarded, releasing the picture.

Efram foiled Trenton's attempts to snatch the drawing under the table.

"Actually, I had a weird experience today, too, Chichiue Manfred," offered Trenton, son and heir to Brendan Lord Gratz. "Just like Efram was saying. I was in nobility – except I was _listening_," he stressed toward Efram, who blew him a crooked pucker mock-kiss in return. "Then bam! I was at Grandfather Stovemuessen's ranch, playing with a faun and an ogre. Except they weren't babies – it's like I'd known them a long time, and they were friends, my age, I guess. And Chichiue was leaning on a split-rail fence, talking to Lord Erick and… um, Lord Franklin."

Trenton stole a quick glance at Aldrich. It had just occurred to him, that though he didn't find his vision upsetting, it might be to his foster-father. Franklin and Aldrich had been cross-fostered best friends, just like Dietrich and Trenton. He'd died just last year. But Aldrich focused on pushing yellow peas around his plate. It was Dietrich who made Trenton jump, with an involuntary squeak.

"Uh, so yeah," continued Trenton, "and then I was suddenly in class again, like nothing happened," Trenton finished lamely. "Diet, did anything like that happen to you?"

"I…" breathed Dietrich, pressed so hard into his chair back that it creaked in protest. "I… I was walking down the corridor by Grandfather's studio…"

Aldrich, alarmed, leaned over to take Dietrich's hand.

Dietrich's face blushed crimson and crumpled. He blurted, "I was _big_, Chichiue, and I was walking with Wolfram, and he had his arms around me, and he kissed me, and he wanted to tie me up with ropes and do some kind of _sex_ to me and…" And sensitive Dietrich – who at any mention of_ 'sex', _covered his ears and squealed in protest – flew into his father's arms, sobbing.

Aldrich, Dietrich's little face burrowed under his chin, his arms well wrapped around his son's shuddering torso, said softly, "Manfred… I had an experience like this today, too. And... Wolfred… was alive." He offered no further details.

"And I as well, Manfred," offered Lord Howard, the castellan, reluctantly. "In fact… I was in the audience chamber. Watching King Wolfred throw that Squire and factor into the dungeon."

Manfred's blood had turned to fire at the gut-wrenching idea of his son Wolfram propositioning Dietrich. _Sex with ropes, indeed! _But at this – two strange out-of-body… _episodes_… of the_ same _hallucinatory event? Manfred cooled quickly and started to think. "What time was this?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn. _Where's the beginning…_

Reports varied from a noncommittal estimate of half past two from Aldrich, to after three-thirty from Trenton. Efram and Howard's were synchronized, possibly also with Aldrich's. Lord Howard said his wife and son also had an experience, a bit later in the afternoon. They'd begged off dinner tonight, each saying they wanted to be alone.

_Damn. These people were really disturbed by this... event,_ thought Manfred, looking uneasily at Aldrich, who was just holding himself together.

"And you, Lord Manfred?" inquired Lord Howard. "Anything around three?"

Manfred shook his head slowly, noting that Aldrich squeezed his eyes shut briefly, as if in pain, but kept stroking and gentling Dietrich. "No. I was filling in for a colleague, giving a lecture in herbology. No breaks in normal consciousness."

The family's senior servant, the valet Thomas, hovered by the door through the last few exchanges. Manfred finally looked his way. "Yes, Thomas?"

"Yes, excuse me, Lord Manfred. I couldn't help but overhear. A number of the staff have reported similar experiences, most of them also just after three. And Lord Manfred… Many found this _very_ upsetting. Myself included, I'm afraid."

_And no wonder,_ thought Manfred. Thomas was a confidante, a pillar of calm support to every member of the family. He cared about all of them dearly, and they about him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Thomas, I hope you're feeling better," said Manfred softly. "But you said… _most_ just after three? Not all?"

"Yes, my Lord. My _first_ experience was closer to two-thirty, when I saw… your son, in the corridor," Thomas shifted his eyes pointedly to Dietrich to make clear he meant Wolfram, with Dietrich. Manfred nodded understanding. "The _second_, after four, I went to the cemetery to retrieve Lord Aldrich's gardening tools. They'd been… left, after my Lord Aldrich's experience."

Manfred swallowed. _Aldrich never leaves his gardening tools lying around outside. No more than I would leave my healing kit out in the rain. And… the whatever-it-is, _repeated_, at least for Thomas… I don't have an ending, then…_

Thomas nodded to acknowledge that Manfred seemed to catch his drift. "I'd prefer to tell you what I saw in the cemetery privately. My Lord Manfred."

Manfred shook his head slightly at Thomas' hand-waved offer to do that right now in the hall. "But what you saw, it matches other… reports?" Thomas nodded. "Both times… And you say several of the staff were upset. How upset?"

"Three or four had to retire to their rooms for the rest of the day. I believe the laundry woman is under sedation."

Manfred's eyes widened. A veteran camp follower, not much fazed that worthy woman. "Axel's mother?"

"Yes, I believe her late son's name was Axel," replied Thomas, initially puzzled. "Ah, I see – Axel was friends with your son, Lord Wolfram, wasn't he. Yes, I believe she… ran into Axel."

Manfred was thinking furiously. _All at the Castle – no. Efram and Trenton were at the Institute, with me. But we all ate at the Castle last night – no. Efram stayed over his mother's last night at the Institute, and she packed him lunch. Something we ate wouldn't explain this, anyway. Hallucinations, maybe, but shared ones? Hardly._

"Thomas, do you know if anyone else had more than one experience?"

"I believe the laundry woman had two, and the captain of the guard."

"And are you alright, Thomas?" asked Manfred, with a searching look.

"I am concerned. Lord Manfred."

"As am I, Thomas. If you could, please, I'd like the entire guard to attend me. No, wait – please send one ahead to fetch three fast launches to the royal pier, and hold the mid-evening cross-Donza ferry until I release it. I'll meet the rest of the guard in my office – No. Efram and I will be in the box maze in the garden. Ask them to wait for us just outside the maze. Efram, with me, please?"

"What are you going to do, Manfred?" asked Aldrich softly.

"Find the edges of this thing." Manfred stooped to kiss Aldrich. He also whispered into his ear, _"Mass hysteria."_

Wolfram would have rolled his eyes in exasperation, at Manfred's perennial fetish for finding the beginning and ending and edges of things. Until he'd had a moment to reflect on the second statement – _mass hysteria_. Even the one experience had traumatized Dietrich and Aldrich. Given Thomas' habit of soothing understatement, they were far from alone in that. And if this… anomaly… continued? Expanded? Sometimes the simplest tools are quite powerful. The quickest handle he could get on this – _whatever _– was to find where it _ended_. Then he could simply compare the inside and the outside, and figure out what was different.

Aldrich nodded slowly, and cuddled Dietrich, laying his cheek on the boy's pale blond and blue bushy hair. "Shinou be with you. Shamshesh, love."

-oOo-

Manfred dispatched the castle guard, to cast his net far and wide and fast, asking for reports, and time of incident. Up the Donza to Wincott, across to Tarkenburg and the west of Bielenfeld, by horse to eastern Bielenfeld, a fast cutter downriver to Gratz, another farther downriver to Blood Pledge Castle. And he sent to the Castletown and Institute municipal guards, and local plantations, to request details and regular updates on any and all strange reports nearby.

Manfred's office within the von Bielenfeld government, was public health and welfare. Cooperation within the domain would be prompt and thorough. And his reputation in his field was such that he could expect willing, if less practiced, cooperation from every corner of Shin Makoku, if he asked it.

_Find the edges, and report back. I need to know numbers of people suffering severe reactions, overall number of experiences, when and where. When you leave anyplace, make sure they'll continue to send updates to me, of any recurrences, any signs of change in their local situation, for better or worse._

Efram's whistle failed to summon any of their nymph relatives in the box maze. That worried Manfred in itself. But more, he'd wanted to ask Garena or Tariel if they could scout for him, or at least relay messages to a few key people, like Aldrich's father Friedrich, and the Great Sage Murata Ken, both currently living in Trondheim. But the message would have to go the slow way instead.

His minions dispatched, and nothing left to do but wait, Manfred did catch up with Thomas before rejoining Aldrich and the children.

Thomas' second experience had been in the cemetery after Aldrich finally went in, to bathe and play quietly with their infant twins. Thomas said that in this second experience, he stayed in the cemetery. Even the day appeared the same, within and without the experience. He'd interrupted Aldrich and Glynda, Wolfred and Garena, visiting by Manfred's grave monument.

Thomas had gone to the garden to deliver an urgent dispatch to the Maou. _Aldrich_ Maou.

-oOo-

No one confessed any strange experiences to Yuuri. But Gwendal, Cecilie, and most especially Wolfram, were quiet and distracted, to the point of losing their train of thought in mid-sentence. Günter was in one of his moods to rhapsodize about the glorious wonders of a salt shaker. And one by one, they peeled off on thin excuses. Wolfram declared he would spend the evening painting. Whether Wolfram originally intended this or not, those honey bear bee excrement paints were a potent husband repellant. Wolfram would spend the evening _alone_. Until he'd had a _bath_.

Conrad, Greta, and Frieda, at least, were good company. After supper, Yuuri headed out to the stables with them, so Frieda and Greta could see Conrad's new horse –

Murata Ken read a bedtime story to his daughter Lucy, a baby centaur he'd adopted here in Trondheim, during Yuuri's honeymoon last winter. Like all the reborn ghosts of that memorable vacation, Lucy had grown like a weed, even compared to a human baby, let alone a Mazoku. Just nine months old, she was engrossed in the story, which had no pictures save those in her mind. She asked questions, and guessed what would happen next in the story, though her vocabulary was still small. She'd grown physically as well. Her head almost reached Murata's ribs now –

Yuuri and Murata crested the last rise on the road to Shinou's temple from Blood Pledge Castle, the rise that obscured their view while on the path. They both sported Japanese salaryman uniform – grey polyester suit, white shirt and tie, and brown laced leather shoes, which had been well polished until they'd landed _here_ again. They elected to spend as little time as possible in Shin Makoku, or what little was left of the destitute country. Yuuri and Murata were here only because Shinou dragged them here and stranded them. As always.

The purple-black evil roiled in the dome of powerful wards that encompassed Shinou's temple. Yuuri squeamishly hoped that anyone caught alive inside that vast dome – easily large as a city block – had died long since.

"It's leaking, for sure," said Murata, standing arms crossed, worrying a lip with his fingers. "Those shields won't hold much longer."

"Ah, so – like, there's anything we can do about it?" replied Yuuri. Yuuri was a good man with a spreadsheet. His father and brother had swung him a job at an investment bank after university. He hadn't a clue what to do about… _this_.

Murata-here had no other allies. He was far more forthcoming with Yuuri than the Murata-there was. "We could try the keys, but…"

Yuuri blinked. He frowned. _Something… isn't right here…_ A wave of vertigo passed over him, and then he could remember his own history. _Both_ of his own histories.

-oOo-

_So – any interest? Is this one worth pursuing?_

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	2. As It Should Have Been

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: Some of the complicated bits in this chapter, like Manfred's parentage, were covered in _The Trouble with Trolls_, or other stories, hence their brief treatment here. Please bear with me for the first part of the chapter – we get back to Yuuri and Wolfram later. There's a whole lot of potential to be confusing in this story, so I want to get real clear real quick about some things (not all).

**Chapter 2 – As It Should Have Been**

_Day 1 of the Well of the Five Kings –_

In human armies, like the forces ranged below this burning slope, the great commanders led from the rear, driving the ochre mud-painted screeching Mizrati common soldiers before them. Not so the forces of Shin Makoku. Noble rank was bestowed on families who bore the most powerful majutsu gifts, especially the Aristocrats. Their scions led the vanguard, their gifts protecting the common demons, who largely wielded the strength of their arms. General Hugh Lord Walde himself held the center this day, a von Khrennikov the entrenchments to the right. It fell to the forces with the Lords Wolfred von Bielenfeld and Günter von Krist, to flank from the left, and dash the Mizrati advance against the center and right.

But there was little natural cover to screen this flanking move. Wolfred and several other noble firebugs created smoldering brush fires to hide their advance, leaving him not only in the lead, but ahead of his forces. To his advantage, the greatest swordsman of Shin Makoku at the time, Günter von Krist, was watching his back.

Unfortunately, the brutal Mizrati commander, suspecting majutsu afoot, ordered a good hundred soldiers to charge directly into the brush fire. And the Shin Makoku cavalry was making slow headway. Water users dowsed the flames before the horse and foot troops, but the mounts still took grave exception to heading into a brush fire.

"Damn," yelled Wolfred. "To me!" The fire nobles and their covering swordsmen fell back to Wolfred's position. This was going to screw the flanking maneuver all to hell. No, maybe if it looked like the Mizrati were falling not to majutsu, but rather succumbing to the flames and smoke… "Fires, now, along this line! Make it look natural, an outbreak in the brushfire!" While his firebugs provided the aesthetics, Wolfred used his _other_ attack mode, one that required a great deal more precision. Reaching out with his under-developed fire healer gift, he stopped the hearts of the advancing Mizrati, one by one, taking a few precious seconds apiece.

"_Hyah!"_ screamed Günter behind him and to the right, and in three swipes of his greatsword, cut down a handful of Mizrati split off from the rest, to swarm and take down Wolfred, correctly surmising that the blond in blue and gold was their greatest threat.

With his healing gift, Wolfred directly murdered fourteen of the main advance heading at them, before the rest decided that they could advance no further against the flames. They withdrew, back toward the main force.

They'd bought enough time. The Shin Makoku cavalry caught up, and Wolfred's forces crushed the Mizrati against the entrenchments of Lord Khrennikov.

In the blood-red sunset, over victory on the blood-soaked battlefield, Wolfred finally had a moment to shake Günter's hand. "I owe you my life, friend Krist! Along with saving this entire battle. Name your reward – it's yours for the asking."

-oOo-

Wolfred's grandfather and liege, Friedrich Lord Bielenfeld, sighed sourly. "You could've just sent him a birthday card. It was the man's_ job_ to watch your ass, Wolfred."

"Oh, come on, Grandfather. What harm, healing Günter's boyfriend? You are a healer, after all."

"I _was_ a healer. Now I'm a ruler. And Günter von Krist is a racist prick. Doesn't it bother you in the slightest, Wolfred? If the man knew you were part wood nymph, he'd have probably let the Mizrati kill you."

"Hey, hey, Father!" Aldrich objected. Both he and Wolfred were home from their army service, not long after the quick end to the Mizrati campaign. "You don't believe that, surely? Granted Günter's a racist, but Wolfred was his comrade in arms. He would have saved Wolfred anyway."

"Wolfred, perhaps," conceded Friedrich. "But not _you_, Aldrich. Nor me."

Aldrich was not only secretly more wood nymph than Wolfred, but also openly part troll and elf, from his mother, Alana von Trondheim. Aldrich wasn't even half demon, though he didn't realise that until years later.

Aldrich conceded, "Well, but that's different. Günter fought against my Trond grandparents in the Great War. He lost his homeland in the Kriegsbad Hills, and Krist never got it back after the war. It's natural there'd be some lingering hard feelings."

Wolfred patted Aldrich's taller head. "Aw, Nunkie! _That's_ our sweet little nursery officer!" Friedrich snorted amusement. Aldrich glared. It was on Wolfred's _'recommendation'_ that Aldrich was appointed a training officer, never allowed within _miles_ of a battle. "Sorry, Aldrich, I'm with Grandfather on that one. Except_ tactically_. If you save this Jans fellow for Günter, Grandfather, and _then_ he finds out it's your non-demon blood that powers nifty tricks like that, then he'll start changing his mind a little about non-demons. Granted – probably not enough to ever save _Aldrich's_ ass. Nevertheless."

"Yet you accuse _Aldrich _of idealism," quibbled Friedrich. "Oh, alright, I'll see if I can heal this _Jans_. No promises. I can't stop him from dying if his heart's set on it."

Jans had cancer, metastasized and spread into several vital organs before Günter got him to a healer. It was too late for a true healer to save him. True healers helped the body heal itself. Only a fire healer could remove a tumor directly, and only the retired Friedrich, greatest fire healer of them all, could fully remove malignant tumors at that late stage. Friedrich's son Aldrich had the potential, but not the experience. Wolfred had neither.

Wolfred grinned, and took Friedrich's hand. "Thank you, Grandfather, for redeeming my word! Now – on to more important matters. Why isn't my son here? It's term time, he should be studying at the Institute. Speaking of healing. I know you've despaired of _me_, Grandfather. But I think Manfred could outstrip you some day!"

Friedrich and Aldrich exchanged a glance, and applied themselves to their tea.

"Oh, a guessing game, what_ fun!"_ said Wolfred, green demon eyes glittering dangerously.

"You don't like to hear anything against Phoebe," murmured Aldrich.

Wolfred glared at him. "I'm sure my wife is doing her best. It's difficult for her with me away so much." It was more difficult for her to be married to a man who had no use for her whatsoever when he was home. Wolfred was purely gay. The family had doubts that he'd ever touched a woman, including his wife. The couple weren't friends, either. She certainly wasn't Manfred's biological mother, though only a handful of people knew that. "So Feebs has him in Gratzberg instead of school again, is it?"

Friedrich sighed and saucered his teacup. Aside from Wolfred's certain defensiveness, it wasn't Friedrich's style to intervene in people's affairs, least of all between husband and wife. _However._ "Wolfred, I wish you'd stay home and take over raising your son."

-oOo-

"I'm going to be a military commander. Like you, Chichiue," said Manfred. The 30-year-old didn't meet Wolfred's eye. A firm summons to Phoebe in Gratzberg, with a backup letter to Adeldan Lord Gratz, had produced his son at Castle Bielenfeld within the week, though not his wife.

The two sat on a narrow staircase, above a landing with high leaded-glass windows, open to a summer breeze off the river. Bustling waterfront Castletown, the biggest city in northern Shin Makoku, stretched out before them. _Our citizens – the people I will rule someday, and Manfred after me. _Wolfred had loved this spot since childhood. By sitting on different steps, he and his grandfather could put their heads on a level and have an intimate chat. He loved bringing his son to these same steps for their talks.

Wolfred tousled the child's cowlicky bright yellow mane. "Well, maybe you could be a commander, Manfred," Wolfred allowed. "But you've got a real gift for healing, and _all _your studies! _I_ think you could be an even greater healer and scholar than Grandfather!"

Manfred hunkered down and looked at his toes. "I'll join the army. Like Adelbert," he said dully.

Wolfred said, "Well, you know, Manfred, Adelbert's a big, tough bruiser. And not so good at school. I wish I'd been as good at school as you are! Manfred, you're super-smart – like Grandfather, _that _smart! And in the tough bruiser department, well…" He cupped his son's chin and turned his face up to look in his eyes. "Foxy friend, you are the most beautiful boy I've ever seen – and believe me, honey, I'm a _connoisseur_ of pretty boys! But you're not tough. You're intellectual and sweet and sensitive, like your cousin Aldrich. You're a healer, not a killer, my son. And I am _so_ proud of you! That's why I was upset that you were off in Gratz, instead of here at school, where you belong."

Manfred pulled his face away and frowned down at his shoes again. "I can be tough, if I work out enough." But he didn't believe it. By now he knew he'd never be big and tough like Adelbert. Not even close.

Wolfred pursed his lips. "Well, exercise is good for you. And you'll probably be bigger than Grandfather." Indeed few men were smaller – Friedrich was 5'3". "But here's the thing, Manfred. It seems like you're trying to become an Adelbert. Now, I love your foster-brother, don't get me wrong. But I'm pretty biased, kiddo. I love my Manfred much, _much_ more! So I'm like totally puzzled. Why would my perfect foxy friend want to be an imitation Bert, instead of his own shining self?"

Manfred deflated even further.

_He hasn't smiled once since he arrived,_ thought Wolfred. _When did my adorable little boy stop smiling? Why was I too busy to notice? I am so sorry, Manfred. I thought I left you with a good mother, who'd love you just as you are. Not an indifferent foster mother, who'd tell you that you weren't good enough. I thought a responsible woman would be better at raising you than a promiscuous gay soldier. But I do love you. Time for me to grow up and parent you, then, huh?_

Neither Manfred nor Wolfred said a word against Phoebe. But Wolfred resigned from the military, to raise Manfred himself, and start taking over Bielenfeld from the aging Friedrich. Wolfred and Phoebe's marriage was quietly annulled. Manfred and Adelbert remained cross-fostered, but Wolfred had an understanding with Adelbert's parents, that the boys needed to see themselves as bearing equally valuable gifts, never again Manfred subordinate to Adelbert.

Phoebe didn't just dump Manfred and walk away – they spent a few years weaning off. But fairly soon, she remarried and moved to the far end of Shin Makoku, and came back to visit family less and less.

It took a while. Young Manfred was excruciatingly sensitive and somber. But Wolfred's bounding energy and irrepressible personality, combined with Wolfred and Friedrich's absolute love for the child, gradually had their effect. Manfred came out of his shell, and smiled again.

And with Wolfred and Friedrich encouraging his education, instead of Phoebe harping on him to get his nose out of a book, Manfred's studies took off like a shot.

-oOo-

Wolfred's style, coming on the heels of nearly two centuries of his grandfather Friedrich's leadership, was a shock to all concerned, Bielenfeld Squires and Shin Makoku Aristocrats alike. Friedrich was a reluctant ruler, accustomed to authority, yes, but loathe to intervene in other people's affairs. Wolfred had no such compunctions.

He started by taking over the treasury, as all Bielenfeld heirs did. He proceeded to audit every Squire and equalize taxes between plantations, to _'ensure a level playing field'_. He overhauled the funding of social services, previously concentrated in Castletown on Friedrich's personal tab. Wolfred made this a domain-wide budgetary matter, and opened the floor to bids. As he'd expected, the rural plantations jumped on the new cottage industry opportunity of caring for the disabled, orphaned, ill and destitute. The ghettos of Castletown evaporated. And the displaced unfortunates prospered – Wolfred kept meticulous track. His distributed social services cost less, raised incomes in the boonies, and yielded a better quality of life to those helped.

The ruling von Bielenfelds themselves, newly forbidden to throw their spare change to the poor due to tax leveling, invested more heavily in the arts and entertainment and academia. Castletown prospered, as ever. And Friedrich and Aldrich invested even more heavily in Trondheim.

The Lords and Maou of Shin Makoku, who'd taken Bielenfeld's open-handed aid for granted, relearned what _'strings attached'_ meant. Economic aid and famine relief were still available. But not free. Wolfred exacted a price, whether in loans, financial shares in local industry, or political coin. The political concessions usually revolved around better treatment for all races of Mazoku. The virulently racist domains of Krist and Donaghie, were both _especially_ welcome at Wolfred's soup kitchen. He had a _long_ list of new policy to extract from _them_. Their attempts to bypass his will, just made Bielenfeld richer still, from interest payments and industrial profits. Their ability to defy him eroded. In time, Bielenfeld's border shifted south into Donaghie, adding new plantations, as Donaghie failed to repay its loans.

Wolfred had fun playing regular politics with the Ten Aristocrats, outside the aid game, too. Aldrich and he perfected a good-cop-bad-cop routine, setting up Friedrich as the wiser head who resolved the youthful squabbles between his heir and spare. This was pure theatre. The trio rarely disagreed.

The game went into overdrive when Stoeffel von Spitzweg took over from the ailing Hugh Lord Walde, as Cecilie Maou's chancellor. Wolfred had happily served under von Walde for decades. He especially admired Hugh's kindness for all the Mazoku races, including the Tronds he'd fought so hard in the Great War.

Cousin Stoeffel was a different kettle of fish. Wolfred found his demon-centric racism particularly galling. Stoeffel was the grandson of Friedrich's twin sister Emeraude, thus Stoeffel and Wolfred were both exactly one eighth wood nymph. Stoeffel just didn't know it. Wolfred settled into his new hobby of torturing Stoeffel with great relish.

-oOo-

"Chichiue, Adelbert and I want to join the army," announced young Manfred, fifteen years after that fateful battle in Mizrat.

"Huh!" said Wolfred, with an evil green manic glint in his eye. "Well, doesn't _that_ sound like fun! Go see the world, play with the other boys, have some adventures! And the _men_, well, they'd just eat you up…"

Manfred pursed his lips. He knew his father's sexual innuendo leer.

"Mm-hmm, I loved it!" continued Wolfred. "But you see, foxy friend, I was sixty-five. You are _forty_-five. You're too young."

"I am not! The age of –"

"For commoners. _You_ are highest aristocracy. Sixty-five minimum, or I forbid it. _However!_ Maybe we _should_ do a little adventuring! And Adelbert, too! How about this – we let Nunkie Aldrich practice running the domain, and _we_ go on a long vacation with Grandfather Friedrich. And we'll _all_ get in touch with our non-Bielenfeld roots. Adelbert too!"

"Non-Bielenfeld roots?" asked the puzzled Manfred, son of Wolfred von Bielenfeld and Phoebe von Bielenfeld – at least, so far as he knew. "Adelbert's coming too?" Adelbert's mother was von Bielenfeld, and father von Gratz. They'd never mentioned any other roots…

"Yeah! I've some people I want you to meet in the Krist Fens, Grandfather's birth family."

Manfred's eyes flew wide in surprise. To Manfred, the old man was Bielenfeld embodied. _The Krist Fens?_ Because Friedrich's wood nymph parent was a secret, they'd never told the child. Nor had they told him that Phoebe wasn't his birth mother.

"And while we go to Krist, Adelbert can get in touch with his Trondheim side," said Wolfred. "Franklin's little brother Ted works the Trondheim mail. I bet he and Bert would get along famously! So it's all settled. Oh, I can't wait to tell Grandfather and Aldrich!"

-oOo-

Wolfred got his way, as usual. Since they would be escorting Adelbert to the Trondheim Escarpment anyway, Friedrich asked the boy's father Adeldan to come along, for another difficult but long-overdue family reunion. He accompanied the von Gratzes all the way to Trond Hall, to enjoy a long conjugal visit with his wife Alana, and ease the shocking revelations in store there for his young brother-in-law Adeldan.

Had Friedrich gone directly to the fens with Wolfred and Manfred, instead of joining them a month later, the Well of the Five Kings might never have persisted.

-oOo-

Young Manfred – roughly equivalent to a twelve-year-old human, though a genius one – gazed around the small wood, on a low hump of a hill rising from the Krist Fens. The wetlands stretched to the horizon in all directions, a sea of brilliant green low herbs, dotted with wooded island hillocks like this one, under a bright blue May sky. He'd spent his life on the banks of the great Donza river, central highway of Shin Makoku. He'd seen marshes and swamps, but they weren't like the Fens. Under the riot of flowering herbs, there was squishy, flowing water _everywhere_, except for the low wooded hills.

All this time, Wolfred had refused to tell him where they were going exactly, only that they would visit family there. They'd spent last night on one of these hummocks. So Manfred didn't ask again now. Manfred figured they were just stretching their legs. There were no visible hints that this particular hump was the grail they'd been seeking. It was a pretty hill, covered with blooming magnolia, and dogwood of many delicate pinks and yellows and white. There was a little house. But it was clean and empty, and his father paid it no attention.

But Wolfred took a carved wooden whistle out of a grubby pouch in his pocket, and blew it. He gazed around, seeming to expect a response imminently.

Manfred glanced around again – not so much as chimney smoke in the distance. "Is that… a hunting whistle?" Manfred ventured. He stared blankly at his normally manic father, who'd simply sat down, to stare at a tree.

Wolfred shook his head lightly, not taking his eyes off the tree, green eyes glowing with happy anticipation.

His eyes looked significantly more dangerous and irritable a couple hours later. By then he'd circumnavigated the hill several times. The whistle hung from his mouth like the straw farmers liked to chew on, rising for an irritable _toot _every few steps. His father clearly being in a mood, Manfred wandered downhill to stalk crabs for their supper.

"_Dammit_, Garena," whispered Wolfred, his hand caressing the trunk of a particular magnolia. _I think it was this one, Manfred's tree. This is the seed I planted, the tree Garena drew Manfred from…_ Focused forty-five years in the past, on the wonder of that childbirth, his beautiful blond lover and the miracle of a tiny infant… Wolfred _jumped _when Garena spoke at last.

"You are…here…" Garena said wonderingly, searching his onetime lover's face and eyes. "Wolfred?"

"Garena!" Wolfred cried, and folded the shorter man into an embrace, speechless for a few moments, delighting in the pure physical comfort of _coming home_ to a lover's touch. His body seemed to murmur, _So long, I should never have been gone from this embrace so long!_ Then he pushed Garena away brusquely and complained, "I've been blowing that damned whistle for _hours!_ Come on! I have someone I want you to meet! _Manfred! Come quick!"_

"Manfred?" asked Garena, puzzled.

Wolfred grabbed his son in a playful headlock when he arrived, and swung him around, then bent down to look him in the eye. "Manfred, I'd like you to meet your_ other _father. This is Friedrich's full brother, Garena. They're half wood nymph. Some of us nymph-kin can breed… differently. You have _two_ fathers, son. I'm your mother-father. And Garena is your father-father."

Manfred blinked at him uncomprehending.

Garena reacted much faster. His expression went from astonishment to fury in nothing flat. "Our son's name was _Wolfren!_ You renamed our son and didn't _tell_ me? My son was alive all this time, named _Manfred? _I thought he was _dead!_ You _idiot,_ Wolfred!"

Wolfred fell under a hail of blows. The wrestling match segued into Wolfred cradling and rocking the smaller man in his arms, both crying. When Garena calmed, Wolfred beckoned, and Manfred knelt before them. And Garena hesitantly enfolded his long-lost son into a hug, touching him for the first time since babyhood.

"You're beautiful," whispered Garena, touching the the boy's face. "A healer like Theophilus. The life maryoku is so strong in you…"

"How, um…?" Manfred finally dared to ask.

"We don't need to go into that now –" attempted Wolfred.

Garena slapped a hand over Wolfred's mouth and jabbed a finger next to his nose. "Wolfred make seeds in his sinuses. You can feel with healer gift. Most seeds are just trees. But this one," he touched the magnolia, "has – _had_ – you inside, Wolfren – _Manfred_. That's how Friedrich and Emeraude and I are born, to a demon and a wood nymph. That's how you are born, too."

Manfred looked skeptically at the magnolia tree. Wolfred gathered him into a hug, and murmured, "You don't believe it now. But that's why we're here. You'll get used to it. I did. You see, this is why, Manfred, why I have to fight for all Mazoku races, just as much as Aldrich. It's for _us_." His voice made a quicksilver shift to its usual over-dramatic range. "_And,_ foxy friend, you can _imagine_ how shocked _I_ was the first time I sneezed _seeds_ out of my nose! That's why I came here back then, to ask how I could make _seeds_, for Shinou's sake! And Garena and I… fell in love…" He looked a heart-felt question at Garena.

Garena nodded his head slowly, holding Wolfred's open-hearted green gaze. "Fell in love," he agreed. "I make you another whistle. One that calls… farther." _Much farther._

Wolfred smiled, the broadest, happiest smile Manfred had ever seen on him. This was credible to Manfred in a way that none of the words were. His father normally looked at his lovers – sexual conquests, really, notches on his scabbard – in a totally different way. Real love he reserved only for Friedrich, Aldrich, and Manfred, in Manfred's experience. But this was even more than that.

Wolfred grabbed his composure back and said, "Well, then, where's Tariel? Manfred, Tariel is your grand-nymph! Garena, Grandfather is joining us in few weeks, too!"

"Later," dissembled Garena. "We call Tariel when Friedrich comes. First, we learn each other again, just the three of us. Manfred, I have question. Why do you believe young idiot father Wolfred? He says crazy thing – is true, but – you believe. Why is that?"

This surprised a laugh out of Manfred. He glanced guiltily at Wolfred, but his domineering father just smiled for him to go on, and settled into unbraiding Garena's long blond hair. He wore it in many small braids, hanging to his shoulders. Wolfred preferred it loose and flowing, in golden yellow waves.

And the floodgates opened on Manfred's questions. And they kept flowing until his fathers tucked him into bed in the little house, and went off with a sleeping roll to make love on the other side of the hill. And when they were sated, they came back, and cuddled the boy between them, and talked long into the night. And the days happily flowed together.

_Just the three of us. _Not for worlds would Garena give up Manfred and Wolfred now. Wolfred's death fifteen years ago, before he'd gotten a chance to meet Manfred, had been devastating.

-oOo-

_Current day, Well of the One King –_

Yuuri came back to himself without transition. One breath, Murata reminded him that the Bielenfeld key to Shinou's boxes was unattainable to them, and the next breath, Frieda tugged on his hand. He shook the strange experience from his mind, to give his full attention to present company – his daughters and Conrad, and admiring Conrad's new horse. He stayed with the girls through Frieda's bedtime story and tucked her into bed. Then he spent some one-on-one time in Greta's room, to hear her little confidences of the day, until she shooed him out with a goodnight kiss.

He ducked into his room, but Wolfram was still out. So he wandered back to the nursery, to pull up a chair and watch over toddler Bertram and newborn Ekaterin as they slept. He adored watching the babies sleep. So sweet, so pure, so trusting and good, like a treasure entrusted to him, one he he strove to deserve every day. There in the gloom, he took out his strange experience to look at it.

_What a small and pointless life_, he thought. Murata's urgent discussion passed more or less out of mind – it hardly seemed relevant. The situation they viewed had never been. And of the handful of people who'd had experiences yet at Blood Pledge Castle, none had told Yuuri. He thought he was dealing with an isolated vision, just another one of those weird little leaky tendrils of the Shinou-Maou-plex that both was and wasn't himself.

What riveted Yuuri's attention was the other past, so vapid compared to the riches of his life since he'd met Wolfram seven years ago, so empty. He'd finished high school as he expected to, without particular distinction. He played a lot of baseball, but only on rec leagues, never a varsity team. He got dragged to a failed version of Shin Makoku now and then, fumbled his way through the task du jour, but then put it out of his mind as soon as he was back _'home'_ each time. He managed to get through college, studying business. He'd just lately graduated to the adult world of the salaryman, grey suit every day. There was a secretary at the office, who wanted to be a wife, but he was nowhere near ready for marriage and kids. Nowhere near ready for responsibility. That Yuuri did all in his power to avoid responsibility, it seemed.

_You can't hit a home run if you don't step up to the plate and take a swing at it. I did what I was told, what I was expected to do, and other than that, played baseball. Even in Shin Makoku… I did what I was told. Sometimes I rose to the occasion… No. Yuuri Maou-mode rose to the occasion. Yuuri Baseball-Boy cowered and hid. But he paid the price for his cowardice. All these riches, my gorgeous and maddening husband, these beautiful children, my friends, my kingdom thriving, my allies thriving. That… _unrealized_ Yuuri, he thought he was doing well if a shallow secretary let him cop a feel on a Saturday. Such puny goals, such a small life, compared to what I fought for and won at Wolfram's side._

_At Wolfram's side… _The thought stuck in his mind, and he frowned. _There was no Wolfram by my side in that other past… That's what Murata was saying. The last key was the heart of Wolfram von Bielenfeld, and I would never get that… _He laughed softly to himself. _Is that what the daydream was all about? What a failure of a wimp I'd have been, without my beautiful hell-vixen, to henpeck me into greatness? _

"There you are, wimp," whispered Wolfram, coiling his arms around Yuuri from behind. He was warm from the bath – their private one, not Günter's late night fleshpot. His bath oil's ginger-pineapple scent steamed gently from him. "What are you smirking about? Sexy thoughts, I hope."

Yuuri smiled and closed his eyes a moment, breathing deep and enjoying the embrace. They both kissed Bertram lightly, and bore Ekaterin's basket back into their bedroom. The newborn slept with them for midnight feeding.

Wolfram was clearly in a mood for only enough small talk to get their clothes off, followed by firm love-making, not discussing what was bothering him earlier. From long experience, Yuuri got with the program. He wanted to tell Wolfram about his vision, and what it meant to him, but these things could wait for pillow talk, after. Now, the lights were out, and Wolfram issued his usual come-get-me-if-you-dare challenge. Yuuri happily complied, straddling his legs and inching the slinky pink nightgown fabric up, two inches at a time, one leg, then the other –

Hon Makoku's Prince Wolfram von Bielenfeld had not been amused by his experience earlier today, suddenly walking in _Blood Pledge Castle,_ of all the cesspits, arm in arm with a brown-faced _human_ girl, _ick_, prattling away about Günter Lord Krist's latest campaign, someplace called Chad. And right when he was finally making some headway with Dietrich about exploring some creative bondage games, too. Didn't _that_ ruin the mood! He was determined that should this suddenly-losing-control thing happen again, _he_ was taking charge!

And sure enough, he was just about to go extract Dietrich from Aldrich Maou's parlor, when _bam!_ he was…

_Being raped by Yuuri, that idiot boy-king pretender Maou in Shin Makoku?!_

Wolfram's expert knee caught Yuuri squarely under the chin.

-oOo-

_Are people interested enough to keep this one going?_

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	3. Prince Wolfram

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed!

**Chapter 3 – Prince Wolfram**

Yuuri flew back from Wolfram's vicious knee kick under the chin, cracking his head into a bedpost. Wolfram screamed a war-cry and dove down to the foot of the bed to throttle the nude pretender, his own pink nightgown gathered up around his waist.

"You _nutcase!_" Yuuri yelled hoarsely, struggling to get Wolfram's hands from his neck. "_Wolfram, what the __**hell**__ do you think you're doing?!_"

This woke Ekaterin, who began to cry. Wolfram, distracted, looked around for the baby. _He tried to rape me in front of a baby?_

Yuuri took advantage of the distraction by grabbing Wolfram by the waist and heaving him up over his head, somersaulting him off the end of the bed, to another great crash.

"Sire?" called a guard urgently from the hall. "Is everything alright in there?"

"No! _HELP!_" croaked Yuuri. Upon which the two guards in the hall, followed by the night nanny, all pushed into the room, the guards with drawn swords, the nanny wielding a pacifier.

Wolfram, nightgown hunched up around his ribs now, crab-crawled backwards away from the guards and toward Ekaterin and her basket on its stand. The guards stood there at a loss as to what exactly Yuuri needed help with. The Maou was sitting naked on the edge of the bed, holding his neck and panting, and the royal consort… They preferred not to speculate just what Lord Wolfram thought he was doing. They glanced at each other in dismay.

"Just… stay there," Yuuri croaked, patting the air at them, palm out.

"Come near me and die!" warned Wolfram, arm outstretched. "I'm a fire healer! I can stop your hearts in an instant!"

Yuuri stared at him, fury turning to insight, and true fear. "What are your intentions toward my infant daughter, Prince Wolfram?" he said softly, but with an edge of steel. For Wolfram was now within arm's reach of month-old Ekaterin in her fragile undress basket, lovingly hand-crafted by her older sisters and brother.

Wolfram, surprised, scrambled up and peered into the basket. Indeed, the tiny newborn was a double-black like the Pretender. She was also still crying. _The boy-king has no daughter. Even if he did, he wouldn't bring her to this world. He barely visits this world!_

"How do you come to hold me hostage in your bedroom!" Wolfram demanded.

"I asked first," said Yuuri, blue fire beginning to play in his hair. He stretched forth his hand, and Ekaterin's basket rose into the air and gently wafted into the nanny's arms, who scurried out the door pronto.

Wolfram stretched his hand forth again as well, with a condescending green-eyed demon leer, which Yuuri found all too familiar. "I would not play hostage games with an infant, foolish wimp! But beware a majutsu duel with me! How _dare_ you take me into your bed?!"

Yuuri said, very carefully, "You are out of place somehow, Prince Wolfram. In this place, Wolfram von Bielenfeld is my husband. I am not the… Pretender. Here I am true Maou, over all Shin Makoku, including Bielenfeld. The infant is _our _daughter, my Wolfram's and mine."

Wolfram scowled. "Madness. What are you babbling about?"

The guards were relieved that Wolfram's nightgown had at last fallen back down below his knees, though they still didn't know what to make of the conversation. They couldn't help surreptitious glances to see if the blue fire playing in the Maou's hair extended to… _other_ hair. It did, rather majestically, as he stood naked now, in a stand-off of extended palms versus his crazed blond husband in pink.

Yuuri continued, eyes level and hard on his adversary. "You are Prince Wolfram, grandson and heir to King Wolfred of Bielenfeld, are you not? In this place, Bielenfeld is still part of Shin Makoku. Lord Aldrich rules in Castletown. Wolfred fell in battle in Mizrat, when Wolfram's father Manfred was thirty years old."

By now, the nanny had roused Gwendal and Conrad, Günter and Cecilie, with bedrooms just down the hall, yelling frantically that Wolfram had lost his mind and attacked the baby and the Maou.

"Lies," breathed Wolfram. "Günter Lord Krist saved my grandfather at that battle. They won the war that day."

"No," corrected Günter from the door. "I stayed behind at the field hospital the day Wolfred fell in Mizrat. The battle was lost. The war dragged on another two years."

Wolfram's eyes flew wide. Günter, the guerrilla warlord of lost Krist, here in the Maou's castle? And he looked… kind and dreamy, not at all the bloodthirsty Lord Krist Wolfram knew. His eyes flew even wider as he realized the others were Conrad and Gwendal and Cecilie beside him. But not at all like his despised Spitzweg relatives, any of them!

"How could this be…" Wolfram wondered softly aloud, frowning at Cecilie, looking beautiful and vivacious and alert. Nearly transparent whisps of scarlet lingerie floated about a rather tight satin teddy her bust was escaping – Cecilie had run without time to don a robe. _This is not the catatonic, failed Demon Queen, my bedamned mother Cecilie!_

"Wolfie…" Cecilie murmured in anguish, eyes wide, fingers to her lips.

"How did you come here, Prince Wolfram? How do I get _my_ Wolfram back?" Yuuri refocused him. "You do not belong here."

Wolfram pursed his lips in thought. "That's a very good question. _You_ didn't do it? If you didn't, and we didn't, who did?"

Wolfram's attack arm slowly sunk down, as he stared at it in shock. He looked at the guards, his brothers and mother and Günter in the doorway, Ekaterin's basket gone. "Yuuri," he said querulously. "What's happening to me?"

-oOo-

For Shin-Wolfram had shifted into the other Well again, this time self-aware, and in control of his body. He was walking toward Aldrich's apartment in Castle Bielenfeld. He paused to consider other destinations, but at this time of night, he might well find his father Manfred within. And Wolfram was increasingly convinced that he was losing his mind, and needed his healer father very badly indeed. So he continued, knocking softly before sticking his head into Aldrich and Manfred's parlor.

"Chichiue?" he began, but the word died on his lips with a soft gasp.

The Wolfram-aged Dietrich was there, welcoming him with a broad grin. Also Glynda von Wincott, Aldrich's mentally ill wife, dead several years now, looking well and happy, as Wolfram had never seen her. Aldrich himself was dancing around the floor with a strange young woman in a spectacular dress. Aldrich's hair was similar to his recent short hairstyle, but with the blond and blue thinned equally, leaving it bluer than normal. His dance partner bore a strong resemblance to Dietrich. _His older sister?_ Wolfram thought, heart quailing.

"Come on in, Wolfram," said a happy Aldrich, apparently assuming the _'Chichiue'_ was addressed to him. "What do you think of Tatya's dress for the engagement party? Is Sylvain a lucky man or what?" He twirled his daughter around to show off the dress to best effect.

Wolfram was distracted by the shimmering pale-green dress. "I love the bias-cut swing to that hem," he said judiciously. "Do you have matching gloves, and maybe some pale jade to set off the neckline? I trust you'll put your hair up to make the most of the scooped back."

All four within the room turned to stare at him. Tatya gave a nervous laugh. "I'd no idea you paid attention to girls' dresses, Wolfram."

Wolfram gulped. "Is my… father here?"

"Please excuse us – I'd like to speak to Wolfram alone," said Aldrich. His tone was pleasant, but his green eyes fixed on Wolfram, and a corner of his mouth quirked up, an expression those closest to him easily read as _please-screw-with-me-and-make-my-day_. Glynda and their offspring fled to their bedrooms quickly, Dietrich with an alarmed glance over his shoulder. He looked as though he were about to comment, but thought better of it, and closed his door. Aldrich himself moved to lean on the fireplace mantle.

Incongruously, this man who seemed happily married to Glynda, moved more effeminately than Wolfram's familiar liege lord and stepfather. _But I've seen him move like that before,_ Wolfram thought, his courtier's eye automatically noting body language. _On our joint honeymoon, when he was half-melted from the baths with my father…_

"Not five minutes ago," Aldrich said softly, "I had a… vision. Of sitting in front of two baby baskets in that room," he pointed to his bedroom door, which Glynda had vanished into, "with Manfred kissing me and massaging my neck. This afternoon I had a vision of looking at my wife's and Wolfred's grave monuments. Dietrich and Wolfred report experiences of being young boys. And now you ask me where your father is. Manfred, who has been dead over eighty years. Who are you. And what is going on." This last fell to a musical whisper. Aldrich's elfin-tilted huge green eyes bored into Wolfram's own, compelling answers. A fire-healer halo danced in his streaky blue-blond hair.

_No! Sweet Shinou! That's like the blue fire in Yuuri's hair on the verge of Maou-mode, except in Aldrich's majutsu colors!_

Before he could answer Aldrich, he was back in his bedroom at Blood Pledge Castle. Yuuri, buck naked and snaking with Maou-mode blue fire, was staring him down, arm raised to meet his own in majutsu duel mode.

"Yuuri? What's happening to me?" said Wolfram. He sank to the floor to huddle his pink-draped knees to his chest, shaking.

The blue fire died and Yuuri's hair gradually fell back down to his shoulders. The adrenaline surge and throbbing pain in his throat would take longer to wear off. He stood shaking, staring down at his beloved, crumpled on the floor. "I need answers," he croaked softly, to no one in particular, stroking his bruised neck. "I need them _now_…"

As though in answer to His Majesty's will, yet more guards burst into the crowded royal bedroom, accompanying a stranger in Bielenfeld blue-and-gold livery. He began speaking before his eyes took in the scene. "Sire, your pardon! I bear an urgent message from my Lord Manfred, to…" His voice dwindled off, as it registered that the Maou was naked, and the letter's addressee was crumpled shaking on the floor. "Ah… this may be related to, um. Lord Manfred has invoked a public health threat crisis, Sire. Um, a _mental _health threat."

"Your Lord Manfred is very, _very_ good," mused Yuuri. He held his hand out for the letter. The messenger hesitated – the letter was addressed to Wolfram, Manfred's apprentice in public health and welfare. But Lord Wolfram didn't appear able to read it just then. The man extended it to Yuuri with a bow, and Yuuri ripped open his husband's mail without a qualm.

_Dear Wolfram,_

_Did you have an experience about 2:30 this afternoon, of yourself propositioning and kissing a grown Dietrich? I pray this question sounds insane – but __imperative__ I know the answer. Please write back immediately with any and all detail. Urgent fact-finding mission, possible public mental health crisis __imminent_

_MvB, BPH&W_

Yuuri read aloud up to the word _'propositioning'_, and the rest silently, eyes wide. Then he went back and read aloud from _'I pray'_ to the end, still unwilling to voice the bit about _'kissing a grown Dietrich'_. He stared at Wolfram. Altogether too many people stared at Yuuri. Conrad handed Yuuri his bathrobe, with a tactfully apologetic smile.

"Aha. Thank you, Lord Conrad…" said Yuuri. He shrugged into his robe, face burning. "If you would, people, I'd like to reconvene this meeting in the situation room. Please… have Giesela or another healer meet us there."

"Go on ahead," said Cecilie, kneeling and taking her beloved baby boy in her arms. "I'll bring Wolfie along as soon as possible."

"No, I should…" Yuuri said, torn. He hesitantly stepped across the floor and reached for his husband.

But Wolfram barked out, "_Go_ already. _Wimp!_ We'll meet you there." By which Yuuri surmised that his lovely vixen was pulling himself together.

-oOo-

Aldrich raised his head from where it cradled on Manfred's breast. He whispered, "Manfred, love… it's happened again. This time the _other_-me was talking to the _our_-Wolfram. Here, in the parlor. And the _other-_me said, that both Wolfred and Dietrich _there _reported the flipside of Efram and Dietrich's experiences _here_. What's happening to us…?"

-oOo-

Before too long, everyone had supplied their stories to Manfred's messenger, Willem, most with grave reluctance, but Willem was ruthless about extracting details. He was significantly more mindful of Manfred's acid tongue than the sensitivities of those present, should he return to Castletown without every available clue. Doubtless Lord Manfred would simply send him back, with instructions to tell everyone to _'get their heads out of their asses'_, and tell him what he needed to know.

Everyone who'd behaved strangely at dinner had their story to tell. But Conrad also had an experience shortly after 2:30, and simply shrugged it off. In his vision, he and Yozak rode with a column of Suberian cavalry. Later, after he'd parted with Yuuri for the evening, another vision came to him. But, the same army had simply camped for the night, possibly in the jagged dry hills near Suberia's impassible border with Trondheim. Yozak was out of town, so he wasn't available to compare stories.

Yuuri went last. His story was the most detailed, as he was the only one who'd had access to memories of another _self_ during his experience. He concluded to Manfred's minion, "To sum up, I believe all these experiences were glimpses of a single, consistent alternate world. And because the crisis of Shinou and Soushu was not resolved there, I fear this situation may be more grave than a public health threat. My regards to Lord Manfred, and I request he come to Blood Pledge Castle without delay to coordinate investigations."

Manfred's messenger Willem blanched. "Ah…"

"_'That's __**your**__ problem, __**idiot**__'_," Wolfram suggested as Manfred's probable response.

Cecilie's estimate was, "_'You do your job, I'll do mine'_."

Conrad suggested, "I could write to Aldrich and ask him to send Manfred."

Gwendal barked, "Or you could get off Manfred's ass and _let_ him do his job! Manfred would be perfectly right, telling you to buzz off."

Peacemaker Conrad concluded, "Point taken, Gwendal. Sire, perhaps I'll write to Aldrich and ask him to forward us Manfred's findings, instead."

Yuuri ruefully agreed that was all he was likely to get.

"And Willem," Cecilie added helplessly, twisting her fingers in anxiety, "please tell Manfred… If there's anything I can do to help…"

Willem nodded with a gentle smile. "I'll be sure to convey that, Majesty."

-oOo-

_Ninety-odd years ago, Well of the Five Kings –_

The Maou Cecilie entered the noble officer's wardroom, a part of Blood Pledge Castle she didn't normally visit, pursuing her odd errand from Shinou's temple. The room hushed near the door as people noticed her presence, but her quarry was none of these. Though, it wasn't as though she knew him. She'd barely seen cousin Wolfred's son Manfred since that fateful ball, when she became engaged to Gwendal's father, General Hugh Lord Walde.

_And thus became Maou_, she recalled sadly. Friedrich would never have mentioned that, not so much in kindness, but on the theory that his great-niece was already poor enough cloth from which to fashion a Maou. It would only undermine her confidence, to tell her that it was her husband's choice of wife, not Cecilie herself, whom Shinou had chosen. But by now, Friedrich had stepped down in Wolfred's favor, and moved to Trondheim, to be with his young wife Alana, and enjoy his retirement in scholarly pursuits. Friedrich wouldn't withhold information from Wolfred. And Wolfred had been sufficiently pissed off at Stoeffel and Cecilie, to throw it in her face.

Wolfred was getting ever more strident in his demands that Stoeffel step down as Chancellor. His latest missive specifically demanded that _Aldrich _replace Stoeffel. _As though a half-Trond could be made Chancellor of the demon kingdom! That awful, awful man! And to think that I considered _marrying_ Wolfred! Of_ course _Stoeffel isn't as good a Chancellor as my darling Hugh! But I could never set dear Stoeffel aside. It would break my brother's heart!_

But these thoughts weren't making her any happier about finding Wolfred's son. She was about to ask someone, when two extremely large men parted, and a vision appeared. Amongst the sea of dull orange-trimmed tan uniforms, Manfred of course wore his Bielenfeld blue and gold, with snowy linens, and a healer's green half-mantle thrown over one shoulder. His wavy golden-blond mane reached his shoulders, with two small blond braids holding the verges out of his face, though cowlicky bangs hung into his eyes. His slight height, 5'7", reinforced an impression of androgyny. Man or woman, the quietly joyous youth was the most beautiful person Cecilie had ever seen.

He was talking with a very large blond, and an even larger blue-haired Trond. Cecilie composed herself and walked up to them. "Lord Adelbert, Lord Teodor," she greeted his companions. "Lord Manfred von Bielenfeld, I presume?"

Manfred smiled warmly and bowed agreement.

Adelbert essayed a sketchier bow, almost to the point of rudeness. He asked, "How can we help you, your Majesty?" The Trond Teodor didn't even bother to bow – he just waved a little, Trond-style.

Cecilie smiled thinly. "I wish to speak to Lord Manfred. If you could come with me? Alone," she added, as the very large youths automatically made to accompany their small smiling blond friend.

Manfred accompanied her to the temple, as Ulrike requested. He was as stunned as she was, at Shinou's request that the two of them have a child together.

"Excuse me, Ulrike," Manfred said, "but may I please speak to the priestess Ilya? If you don't mind." He said it so kindly that Ulrike acquiesced to the outrageous request. Speak to the visiting Trond priestess when he was already speaking to Shinou's very mouthpiece herself? Manfred accompanied one of the lady guards, leaving Cecilie with Ulrike. When he returned, Cecilie saw that his smile was gone, replaced with a slight sadness.

"Is this…" he waved rather than speak 'child-breeding', "also your wish, Majesty?"

"I obey Shinou in all things," said Cecilie, mentally acknowledging that it wasn't much of a sacrifice. _To touch that beautiful hair… Oh, the lovely baby we could have!_

"Very well," replied Manfred. "I will take leave and consult with my father and cousin Aldrich at Castletown." At her look of consternation, he added with a sad smile, "I imagine my Lord father will have strong opinions."

_He knew all along that Wolfred hates me,_ Cecilie realized, heart sinking. _He was so charming and beautiful, I'd forgotten that. Wolfred..._ "Of course," she said, with a wan attempt at a smile. "Please give your father my warm regards, Lord Manfred, and tell him that I am but Shinou's humble servant, in this as in all things."

She heard later that the priestess Ilya von Trondheim soon left the temple, reconciling with her family. Cecilie hoped there was no connection.

Wolfred's letter in response was predictable. He quoted _'stud fees'_ somewhere in excess of a king's ransom. "And it goes without saying, that any male progeny of such a union, is a fire healer Lord von Bielenfeld, and belongs to the Kingdom of Bielenfeld, regardless of the _unmarried_ status of his parents. _Absolutely. Unmarried. _Or Shinou be damned. Touch one pubic hair on my son, Cecilie, and you acknowledge consent to these terms."

And Wolfred, damn him, sent copies of the letter to every single one of the Ten Aristocrats. Most of whom probably… laughed. Cecilie was mortified. She didn't think she could face any of them again, least of all Manfred. But when she was with him, those concerns fell away. The young man's warm loving smile positively glowed, making her quiver like a young girl again, instead of a hard-pressed monarch. And his fire healer touch in love-making… Well, she could well concede the value of a fire healer!

She and Manfred did not discuss marriage. They did not pursue a relationship. They were to have a child, and one child only. A girl would belong to Cecilie, a boy to Manfred and Bielenfeld. Manfred did not ask for help weaving the baby basket from the child's older brothers. They were not Bielenfeld. Manfred himself delivered her of the perfect blond baby boy, and agreed to raise him jointly with her at Blood Pledge Castle for the time being, as he was stationed there anyway for his tour of duty in the army.

But there was no question of Manfred defying Wolfred. Within a week of Wolfram's birth, Manfred took him home to Bielenfeld, to meet the family. At Wolfram's baptism into Shinou's service in the Bielenfeld fountain, Aldrich and Glynda grinned happily at each other, remembering when the two of them stood with the fountain plashing over Tatya, as Manfred now stood with the outraged baby Wolfram. Tatya had been born barely 9 months after their wedding. Though Friedrich had advocated the couple wait on children and build their relationship first, Wolfred leaned on Aldrich to get it done as quickly as possible. Wolfred judged Aldrich a gay man pretending to be bi, and considered his marriage doomed. Expecting their second child, the couple agreed to cross-foster Wolfram if Glynda had a boy.

The delighted grandfather Wolfred sealed the babe as Manfred's heir, and held a gala celebration. As for congratulations to Cecilie, he sent flowers and a note: "Remember. My grandson Wolfram belongs to Manfred and Bielenfeld. Not you. Wolfred vB."

But it didn't matter. True, Wolfred was a domineering nightmare of a not-in-law, but shining Manfred was warm-hearted and inclusive. Little Wolfram thrived under her care as well as his. Manfred encouraged Gwendal and Conrad, around ages sixty-five and twenty then, to visit the baby, too. Manfred loved to sail – his and Wolfred's plantation was a yachting mecca – and even invited them all on a vacation to Caloria one time. On the open sea, far from her throne, with a loving and beautiful man, and three happy boys, Cecilie fantasized about the five of them as a real family. He was too young, really, but such a devoted father! Sometimes she thought her heart would burst when he got back from his tours of the military hospitals, the way he picked Wolfram up, and held him high overhead, with a smile bright as the sun. She almost didn't mind Wolfram leaving her and going back to Manfred's quarters with him.

Almost. But, it was impossible not to bond with little Wolfie. It's amazing how much personality babies are born with. Wolfram was a little prince from the start, holding court, smugly accepting adoration from all comers. Such a doll baby!

Manfred was mobilized quite suddenly. Mizrat attacked Mizrat Prospect in Khrennikov without warning. He gratefully left the baby with Cecilie, and sent a note to Aldrich to come and bring him home to Bielenfeld.

"You don't need to do that!" cried Cecilie. "Wolfie can stay here with us!"

Manfred laughed and nuzzled the baby's tummy. "Already done. No, Cecilie, it's not worth crossing my father. It's alright." He added to baby Wolfram, "This'll be my last tour of duty, promise, pretty vixen! Your Chichiue's going to retire from the army and raise you full-time, that's right! In the meantime, you be good for Aldrich and Glynda, you hear? Don't worry, Cecilie. They'll take good care of him. And we'll come visit you."

Aldrich arrived the next day to take Wolfram back to Bielenfeld. Cecilie hid, with the baby, and told Stoeffel to make him go away. Stoeffel made the _extreme_ miscalculation of trying to proceed from authority – the Maou would keep the child and that was that!

He positioned twenty guards behind Aldrich. They got the drop on him, and beat him badly while they still had the advantage of surprise. But though no fighter to speak of, Aldrich was a superb gymnast. High-born Tronds did tumbling routines every morning, practicing for the great honor of being chosen Caller at their midsummer and midwinter rites. Within a few seconds, he bounded away and warned them, dueling arm out. When Stoeffel ordered them to attack anyway, Aldrich lit all their clothes ablaze, including Stoeffel's. He ran to the garrison, and found an escort back to his launch down at the port. Though he'd retired as training officer before Tatya was born, he'd still trained almost every man there. And Aldrich had a knack for making the kind of friends who'd do anything for him. He had no trouble escaping back up the Donza.

The next day they learned that Manfred had died in Mizrat, when his field hospital was overrun. He, too, was not much of a fighter. He'd been in the army less than 20 years, as a commander of healers.

There followed several days of ominous silence from Wolfred upriver. Then half the army appeared back at Blood Pledge Castle. Their leader, General Gregor von Dienst, a Bielenfeld Squire, informed the castle that the war was over. _Then_ he deployed the army to lay siege to the castle. The war in Khrennikov wasn't over. The other half of the army was still in Khrennikov, bereft of its commanding general, being overrun by the Mizrati invaders.

Wolfred himself, plus his best friend Julius Lord Wincott, his cross-fostered co-parent Adeldan Lord Gratz, and his semi-vassal Lord Trondheim, Friedrich's brother-in-law, all strode to the gates of the castle. They demanded immediate audience with the Maou Cecilie and Chancellor Stoeffel. Cecilie and Stoeffel strode out and demanded to know the meaning of this?

"Garena, do you have our grandson?" Wolfred inquired. Garena stepped up and showed him Wolfram. For the nymph-like Garena, it was no challenge whatsoever to pop into the castle, fool every eye, and abscond with an infant.

"No!" screamed Cecilie, "Give him back! _Wolfieee!_"

"On behalf of Bielenfeld, Wincott, Gratz, and Trondheim – we secede from the Shin Makoku Federation. And you, Stoeffel, in return for attacking our mutual kinsman Aldrich –"

Wolfred stretched out his hand, and with no further ado, stopped Stoeffel's heart.

Cecilie screamed and reached for her brother to resuscitate him. But Lord Trondheim raised his hand, and the very earth swallowed Stoeffel up. Cecilie wildly try to call on her Maou powers.

But her powers wouldn't respond.

"_Aldrich_ von Trondheim von Bielenfeld is now Maou," said Wolfred. And the kings and their army left Shin Makoku. They called their federation Hon Makoku – the true, original Mazoku kingdom. And without them, Shin Makoku could not withstand the forces of Mizrat and its ally Suberia. The domains of Krist and Khrennikov fell to the invaders, along with the portion of Shin Makoku proper that lay between them. Shin Makoku had left only some of Shin Makoku proper, and the three domains of Walde, Dubois, and Spitzweg. Donaghie had already been annexed by Bielenfeld, to pay off bad debts.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the One King -_

Inquiries determined that the only other persons at Blood Pledge Castle who'd had experiences, were in the garrison. No one was particularly surprised that General von Dienst had already compiled a complete report, exceeding Manfred's requested level of detail, dispatched it to Castletown, and left a copy for Chancellor Gwendal on his desk, before retiring for the night.

So Willem quickly set off back to Manfred with his intelligence, reminding the Maou's court that Castletown desired updates on any further anomalies. He wryly suggested that they simply keep Squire von Dienst apprised, and he'd take care of the rest.

_I am not intimidated, _Yuuri reminded himself firmly_. I am __**grateful**__ for the competence of my vassals, especially the Bielenfelds and Tronds_. It was like a mantra. Von Dienst especially spooked him because the man trained Wolfram. _Scary._

Yuuri's inner circle was still in the situation room. Wolfram and his brothers avidly read von Dienst's compiled stories, swapping off pages. Annissina – who'd had no experiences, but couldn't abide being left out – and Cecilie, were huddled lending moral support to Günter and Giesela, where Günter told Giesela about his two visions today about her original father, plus the topic of Jans coming up in the _'other Wolfram'_ encounter.

Yuuri sat apart from them, thinking. _What do I know? I know that Manfred believes this situation is a public crisis in the making._ He glanced at the others in the room and pursed his lips. Conrad seemed to have suffered no ill effects. The others… felt better after forced confession and distraction, that it wasn't just them. But they weren't getting past this quickly. Yuuri was sure Wolfram was acting more together than he really was – he'd need Yuuri to hold him and gentle him all night, and probably have vivid nightmares. And that was even if it didn't happen again. _Yes, Manfred knows his stuff…_

_What else do I know?_ Yuuri frowned. _Not much. Fear, extreme unease – feelings don't count. Or do they? _Yuuri had a lot of hunches, often made decisions by intution, by feel. _OK, feelings count. I feel that this is a very dangerous situation. And I started feeling that way… when I looked at Shinou's temple under a dome, boxes still out of control. _

_But that wasn't real. Phantasms, visions… No. _Yuuri's gaze fixed on Wolfram. _Tonight I spoke to another man who wore my husband's face. He swapped realities somehow with my beloved. This is real, somehow. I'm not overreacting, and neither are Manfred and von Dienst. The fact that people are seriously disturbed, is real, is dangerous. The fact that all these visions corroborate each other, form one story, and that Soushu is out of control in that story, may be very dangerous._

_This is real, and it has my name written all over it. Alright. But I still don't know what _it_ is. So how do I find out…_

"Say, Günter," Wolfram interrupted his train of thought. "Do you know any of these men?" He reeled off a list. At first, Günter said no to quite a few, but then recognized Wolfred's batman, from back in that Mizrat campaign, when Wolfred died. Going over the list again with that context, he recognized more names.

Gwendal consulted another page. "Wolfred's batman had an experience shortly after 2:30… And von Dienst himself… Huh. Nobody earlier than 2:30, and that's when Willem said Aldrich had an experience. His may have been the earliest."

"Günter... ," Conrad was thinking aloud. "Earlier, you said you were at the field hospital during the battle when Wolfred died. But it sounds like you normally would have been with him? May I ask, why you stayed behind that day?"

"Oh, it was tragic," replied Günter. "My partner Jans – Giesela's father – was dying, and took a very sudden turn for the worse. We thought it was his deathbed, only hours to live. But he rallied and held on another month or so. A lot of good men died because I stayed behind that day, and more in the years of fighting afterward.

"It was strange, though. The note telling me to stay behind with Jans, was signed Wolfred – I should hardly have stayed behind without his consent. But I showed the note later to Friedrich, telling him that his grandson had saved my life. But he said it wasn't Wolfred's handwriting. And I had to agree, it was _hardly_ the sort of thing Wolfred would say. And it was only that note that said Jans' condition was critical. By the time I got to Jans' side, he looked no worse than he had the day before."

"Someone tricked you into sitting out of that battle," suggested Gwendal. "The fact that it was a complete rout suggests the writer was an enemy. Possibly Mizrati."

"Maybe," allowed Conrad. "But I wouldn't assume the motive."

"What a different past we would have had, if Wolfred lived," mused Cecilie. "Such a dynamic man."

_Click,_ thought Yuuri, suddenly standing. "Yes, from this end it's a different past. But at the beginning, it was a different _future_."

"Where are you going?" asked Wolfram in alarm.

"To get my nymph whistle."

"That doesn't make any sense, Yuuri," complained Wolfram. "Tariel knew how much my grandfather meant to Friedrich, and Wolfred was Garena's lover. They wouldn't have chosen to get Wolfred killed! And there was only one nymph then. Well, one and a half, counting Garena."

"No," said Yuuri grimly. "There was one other. _Shinou's_ future-reader, Quercus."

-oOo-

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	4. The Great Viral Tea Party

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed!

**Chapter 4 – T****he Great Viral Tea Party**

_Present day, Well of the One King – _

Yuuri and his inner circle trooped out to the garden around 3 am. Selecting an oak by the castle baths, Yuuri drew out his Quercus whistle and blew it loud and clear. They all stared at the oak.

Perhaps the oak stared back, but it didn't say anything.

Wolfram had thought to bring along their Garena whistle, too, the one Garena gave them for a wedding present. He blew that, likewise to no apparent effect. Deciding perhaps it just wasn't a good tree, Wolfram went down the line, feeling the trees. Aldrich had told him that Wolfred planted this line of trees, nearly two centuries ago. But some didn't have the telltale life maryoku signature. At each life maryoku bearing tree, he blew the whistle again, ardently focused on Garena, and his urgent desire to talk to him. From tree to tree he ran, growing more frantic with each blow of the whistle.

"Wolfram…" Yuuri murmured tenderly, stopping him with hands on his shoulders. "Maybe they'll answer tomorrow. Let's go to bed, love." And he gently disengaged the whistle from Wolfram's hand and drew him into his arms. They walked alone to their bedroom, the rest of the group dispersing to their own beds.

Yuuri didn't ask whether Wolfram wanted to be held close all night. He just went ahead and did it. That way, he woke every time Wolfram had a nightmare, to gentle him, smooth his soft hair, and murmur calming words until he slept again.

Three times Wolfram woke. Yuuri wasn't sure, but he thought one of those times, it was Prince Wolfram rather than his own pretty vixen he soothed. That time, the other was stiff instead of clinging for comfort, and uttered not a word. Yuuri held him firmly but kindly. He spoke quietly of Ekaterin, whom Prince Wolfram had met, then his conversations with their other children today. For Yuuri figured, whatever kind of person this Prince Wolfram might be, he was disturbed by these events, just as they were. He deserved to be treated with consideration, and hopefully might even return the favor. When Wolfram passed back into sleep, Yuuri wondered how the _other-_Yuuri was coping tonight. He wished him well.

-oOo-

After half an hour with Aldrich in private, Manfred worked through the night. Grounding Aldrich was easy – soft-voiced conversation, a neck-rub, a cuddle with their twin newborns, shared fire-healer touch, that said beyond any shadow of doubt, no matter what happens, '_I love you'_. That little bit of pampering under his belt, Aldrich rallied, dragged the three boys into their bed, and declared late-night Lord's Lesson. To Manfred, it sounded more like an Unconditional Love lecture, alloyed with Trond spiritual leadership. But no matter – whatever monsters lurked beneath the bed, the boys would sleep well, and Aldrich would, too.

Manfred's messengers returned throughout the night. He needn't have worried about people putting them off until morning. Wherever they went, disturbed and restless folk needed to talk about their experiences badly, be assured that they weren't alone, that yes, what had happened to them was bizarre, but it wasn't just in their own minds. Though the phenomenon wasn't understood yet, there was some real… _thing_… out there that they were perceiving. And others perceived it too.

_I could open fact-gathering offices. Come join in, at the domain-wide 'Thing' Jigsaw Puzzle Party,_ thought Manfred wryly. _Bring your story's puzzle pieces, and find how it fits with your friends and neighbors! With a soothing herbal tea served to everyone at the door. _

_Actually, that's not a bad public palliative until we can find solutions. Better that, than people's first instinct, to isolate themselves, convinced they're going crazy. Self-fulfilling prophecy…_

Manfred expected a spatial pattern – to find an epicenter, with experiences dwindling off to nothing at some radius from there. But the data didn't fit. Temporal… he didn't like what he was seeing, but yes, there was a temporal pattern. From the nearest messengers, who returned first, there was absolutely nothing before 2:30 pm that day. In fact, outside the Castle, it was a while before Manfred got another report of an experience before 3:00.

That changed with the last ferry back from Tarkenburg, the giant plantation that held Bielenfeld's western bank of the Donza River. Squire Soujourn, the current heir, sent a preliminary report from the manor house, to be followed by reports compiled from the rest of the plantation later. Soujourn and his wife Evrinne were among Aldrich's closest same-age friends. They and Soujourn's father reported powerful experiences before 3 pm. Soujourn saw King Wolfred throw a squire and his factor into the dungeon. Evrinne's vision was of preparations for an engagement party for Aldrich's non-existent daughter Tatya and their son Sylvain. Sylvain, who'd married Kieran Lady Donaghie just this summer. Soujourn had a second vision after supper, of a crisis meeting in Castle Bielenfeld, regarding the outbreak of strange visions. King Wolfred had dispatched Soujourn to organize crisis response for the west.

_Huh. My father as his own public health and welfare officer? No, don't get sucked into the story. This isn't an opportunity to get to know my father better… Much as I would have liked to… Tasking Soujourn to organize western Bielenfeld was clever, though. Thanks for the suggestion, Chichiue._

Soujourn added a personal note of heart-felt thanks to Manfred, applauding his quick response. Until Manfred's runner arrived, Soujourn's family each thought they were going crazy alone. His father had locked himself in the library with a bottle of vodka, Evrinne was closeted with a healer, and Soujourn was pacing a hole in his carpet.

_That puzzle party concept is looking better and better… _

Willem from Blood Pledge Castle, followed soon by another runner dispatched to Wincott, both returned near dawn, carried by Aldrich's fastest wind-majutsu powered cutters. Wincott's reports – accompanied by another emotional thank you from Lady Kattrin – were just as Manfred expected. Which suggested he knew the pattern now.

_Like ripples expanding in a pond. Reverberating out from Aldrich at Wolfred's grave, and Wolfred as Efram, and Wolfram and Dietrich. The earliest rings are the people closest, most intimately affected, by Wolfred. People close to him, but who have had no experiences at all, are dead on the other side, and apparently haven't reincarnated yet. Unless I can get in touch with Garena or Tariel, it might take another day before I hear from Trondheim. But I'll bet Friedrich was struck at the same time as Aldrich, and he's already investigating._

_And each experience of this cross-talk between realities, is also being experienced on the other side. And they're planning their own response. And even though Wolfred seems to be at the epicenter, he doesn't know what's happening, either._

When Aldrich came in the morning to check on progress, he looked fresh as a daisy, ready to lead his domain through this crisis with calm confidence. And that, despite having woken with three more experiences overnight, as did both Dietrich and Efram. Trenton had simply pointed out that even if he did dream of being another Trenton, both of them were sound asleep, so who'd know?

"So, Lord Manfred, the resources of the domain are at your disposal," said Aldrich. "What can I get done for you while you sleep?"

"I am _so_ glad that you rule this domain instead of me," Manfred grumbled. He pursed his lips and studied Aldrich's upbeat composure. He shared his overnight findings regarding what was happening. He offered his concept of a widescale Puzzle Party with Sedative Tea, crediting other-Wolfred for the idea of decentralizing response. "And there are some letters for you around here somewhere, from Conrad or Yuuri. But Aldrich… whatever you did, to get from where you were yesterday mentally, to where you are this morning? Add that to the party idea, if you can figure out how."

"Will do, Lord Manfred. Excellent work. And – sleep well, love."

-oOo-

When Yuuri woke around noon, Wolfram was already ensconced with the babies and Annissina and Cecilie in the nursery. Recalling Wolfram's near-hysteria last night, Yuuri pocketed both nymph whistles. Heading to the offices, he saw the castle was full of haggard faces today, faces that flinched instead of meeting his gaze. He realized that he'd also been wearing a serious, worried expression, and stopped. _Yuu-chan, you look like stormclouds!_ his mother scolded in his head. _Show me your happy face!_

He walked to a window and found ten beautiful things in the view. He raised his arms over his head slowly with a deep breath, lowered them on the exhale, and repeated until he could smile sincerely. Then he resumed his walk to the office, greeted each guard and servant in the halls by name, and met their eyes with a warm confident smile. He _set the tone_. And the haggard faces looked slightly cheered, almost all managing to smile back.

"Good morning, Conrad, Gwendal, Günter! Anyone have more visions last night?"

They most certainly had. And reports were pouring in from all over the kingdom, all dismal. A fire-user in Krist used majutsu attacks to kill three neighbors, saying they were informants for the Mizrati occupation. Frightened miners in Donaghie attacked Trond mining consultants, accusing them of bewitching people. Their children stoned a small kobold family simply out for a stroll. Lord Khrennikov urgently requested military police to quell riots and Mizrati-Khrennikov fighting in the streets of Mizrat Prospect. And those were the distant reports, sent before daybreak. Closer by, in Shin Makoku proper, factories and workshops shut down, as the owners and workers were too upset to show up. In Blood Pledge Port, schools and markets were closed, and the docks lay idle. Sailors huddled in their hammocks, and longshoremen never arrived to work. Healers were inundated with people on the brink, or well beyond it.

By now it seemed three out of four people had an other-world experience. And many, like Yuuri's closest advisors, up to five experiences. The visions were lasting longer, involving more cross-consciousness and _other-_control, and coming at shorter intervals. As of the moment, to cobble together forces to restore order in Khrennikov and Donaghie, General von Dienst was selecting only the vision-free, preferring to keep the afflicted close to home, rather than risk throwing fat into the fires in the rioting domains. Even this was hampered by von Dienst not trusting himself – all his orders went through a half hour wait and review by several other commanders.

"Surely that isn't necessary?" exclaimed Yuuri.

Gwendal answered reluctantly, "When I first told him to send peacekeeping forces to Khrennikov, he laughed out loud, and said, _'That's a good one, Gwennie!'_ He… patted me on the head and reminded me to… take my medications. _I_ removed him from office. But then his replacement had a vision of watching his daughter raped by Suberian soldiers. _He_ needed to be sedated. So I reinstated von Dienst, and he devised the wait-and-review."

"Oh," said Yuuri. _My kingdom is falling apart and I don't have a clue what to do about it… _He gulped. "Any word from the north? Manfred or Aldrich?"

A guard cleared his throat at the door. "Visitors from Bielenfeld are waiting, Sire. We didn't want to interrupt before your briefing. I'll go fetch the professor."

Willem, Manfred's messenger from last night, strode in first. He summarized the situation as he knew it across the northern domains. And he knew it quite well, having compared notes with all of Manfred's other messengers, they being his guard-mates. There was a thick report with a note from Aldrich, but Willem provided the gist – Bielenfeld had plans in motion for peacekeeping in Bielenfeld and Donaghie.

"But m'Lord only sent a single advisor to each of the other domains and here," said Willem apologetically. "Not enough healers or tea or… Well, we're autonomists, after all. The professor just wandered off to look into tea supplies. He should be… Ah! Sire, Lords, please meet Professor Symbian of the Bielenfeld Majutsu Institute."

The paunchy little older man positively glowed, with china blue eyes under thinning blond hair. "I am so happy to meet you all. We have wondrous work before us today, don't we? Marvellous." He shook all of their hands in turn, meeting their eyes with a warm personal smile, and an outflowing of love so powerful it made Gwendal and Conrad flinch. Yuuri and Günter soaked it up.

"Are you a professor of healing, Professor Symbian?" inquired Yuuri.

"Yes, yes, head of Unconditional Love. Lord Aldrich is one of my adjuncts. We teach what laymen call _'bedside manner'_." He beamed. "With your permission, Sire, I'd like to run a treatment plan here in the castle and garrison. It may be a little disruptive at first. But it should put people more at ease fairly soon, and the spread from here down to the port. By the way, could you possibly spare some sagewort tea?"

"Ah, certainly. Guard, could you get us a pot of… sagewort… from the kitchens?"

"Oh, lovely!" said Symbian, hands clasped. "Lord Aldrich could only spare me a few bales. As it is, we're having to try several less suitable teas near Castletown, where we can keep a better eye on things."

"_Bales!"_ echoed Yuuri. "Professor, what is this… treatment plan?"

"Ah, we call it the Great Viral Tea Party!" explained Symbian. "It's beautifully simple. We set up big cauldrons of a mild sedative tea in public places. Then we go around asking people if they've had experiences of another world, and if so, share the treatment with them. The treatment is to drink a cup of tea, then stay in public places and find ten others to swap experiences with, looking for people whose visions are related to your own. And then have another cup of tea." He beamed triumphantly. "Feeling better spreads like the common cold. It's very effective."

"Oh, how brilliant! I'll help you get the supplies you need, Professor!" offered Günter, while the others were still speechless.

"Ah, thank you, Günter," said Yuuri. "Please be sure to pick up Wolfram along the way. Professor Symbian, you do know Wolfram, my… public health officer?"

"Oh, yes, certainly! I've had him in classes several times. Lovely youth. Amazingly well-developed sense of entitlement. And a true natural at applied love, _very_ gifted!"

Yuuri smiled, amused. Symbian smiled. Günter led him away to find Wolfram.

When they were out of earshot, Gwendal mumbled, "If that's the best Manfred could come up with, we're in deep shit." Yuuri and Conrad sadly concurred.

-oOo-

Manfred was right. Friedrich von Bielenfeld, Aldrich's father and predecessor as Lord Bielenfeld, _did_ have his first experience of another reality at the same time as Aldrich and Wolfram and Efram. It was his habit to go cross-country skiing in the early afternoon, to catch some much-needed sunlight while the rest of the Trondheim royal family were still asleep, then work a few hours until family breakfast after sunset. Friedrich being a man of regular and constructive habits, it happened that his alter-self was doing the exact same thing, several hundred yards to the left and downhill, while mulling over a different line of empirical research than _here_-Friedrich.

_Other_-Friedrich was thinking that his successful treatment to prevent death-by-breeding of quarter-troll men, by applying the troll counter-pheromones produced by pureblood ogres, had a parallel to the endemic and tragic problem of birth defects from troll and elf inbreeding.

_Here-_Friedrich took this to be a flash of inspiration. _Of course! When I began this research, we had no pure ogres, but now we do! That opens up a whole new… But hang on. How would we harvest and apply ogre counter-pheromones?_

So excited was he by the potential of this treatment approach, that he skied straight back down to Trond Hall and into his lab. His wife Alana and their newborn daughter Frieya peeked in on him later for a kiss, but Alana knew better than to interrupt Friedrich at his empiricism. He worked straight through breakfast and into the evening. He was rather stuck, and decided to list his questions clearly, as a prelude to inducing further insights. Then he emptied his mind and focused on his maryoku signature, a phoenix, and settled in to meditate.

After nearly an hour of contemplation, he was rewarded with another vision, of himself in a different lab in Trond Hall. His alter ego was bustling around supervising his assistants, who were charting an outbreak of visions of another world. His lead assistant was a woman of perhaps 120 who looked like Friedrich's son Aldrich, and was addressed as Princess Frieya. Another appeared to be an adolescent full-blood ogre, possibly Lord Erick's adopted son Dannikin, but grown.

_Hello?_ asked Friedrich. _I have questions about your quarter-troll breeding treatment. _He presented his questions, and _other-_Friedrich, suddenly standing stock-still, answered them.

Then _other-_Friedrich asked his own questions. _Who are you, who seem to be me? What do you know about these experiences of another world, spreading among the people? Have you seen me before? I have seen you._

But at that point, the contact broke off. Friedrich was still scratching careful notes of every detail he could, when Murata found him. Friedrich held up a hand, and jotted one-word reminders for what else he wanted to write, then looked up for Murata to speak.

Murata too ate evening breakfast with the royal family of Trondheim. He filled Friedrich in on the strange dreams people shared over the meal. The dreams all seemed to be of a single world, where Lord Franklin still ruled Trondheim, not his son Erick. But Franklin and his aunt Alana were called King and Queen. King Wolfred ruled in Bielenfeld, and Aldrich was Maou. And then Murata himself had an experience later, of the same other world, in which Shinou and Soushu were still locked in combat, under a containing dome of some kind over Shinou's temple, that was starting to fail. In that world, Yuuri barely visited Shin Makoku, which was pretty much in ruins. Other-Yuuri and other-Murata were helpless to conquer Soushu.

"Friedrich, I'm concerned," Murata concluded. "Alana and Erick are worried about these visions upsetting the public. But Soushu may be the greater threat. Could you call me a dragon, to ride down and consult with Yuuri?"

"I see," said Friedrich. "Give me a moment." He completed his notes, then placed his lab notebook lovingly back where it belonged, for him to get back to tomorrow, or… never. Someone else could pick up where he left off, if need be. "Alright. Let's call a dragon."

With most people, Friedrich would have been coy about nymph activities, but this was the Great Sage. No doubt Murata already knew that Tariel was the spirit of the dogwood tree. They went straight to Tariel's favorite dogwood, in the field greenhouse, where Murata's centaur daughter Lucy lived. Friedrich didn't use a whistle. As a half-nymph, speaking amongst the trees was his milk tongue, though he didn't speak it well anymore. He simply laid his hand on the trunk and called. _Garena? Tariel? _No answer. _Salix? Quercus?_

He took his hand from the tree and frowned. They weren't… _here. _Anywhere…

Lucy tugged on his sleeve. "Edelweiss isn't busy. Just the wood nymphs," she offered.

"Lucy! You should be asleep, not pestering grown-ups," Murata scolded.

But Friedrich leaned down, face to face with Lucy, palm out to Murata. "What do you know about this, Lucy?"

"I'm too little in this well," she replied. "My other me knows."

"Did you say _'well',_ Lucy?" Friedrich asked in sudden alarm. "Like a well of futures?"

Lucy hid her head on his shoulder. That was too complicated.

"Can you take me to Edelweiss, Lucy?"

"Sure!" The little centaur cantered off to a decorative rock outcropping, and waited for them to catch up.

Friedrich thanked Lucy, and sat on the grass and felt around… _There. Edelweiss? May I speak with you?_

The shy field nymph appeared, half-prone facing him, up on an elbow. Like all the field nymphs, Edelweiss appeared female – quite obviously so, since they went topless and favored low-slung grass skirts with flowers. Her hair was white as the alpine edelweiss flower, her eyes large and yellow-green. Her curvaceous body was about the same height as Friedrich's scant 5'3".

_I seek my nymph-parent Tariel, or my brother Garena. _

_They are not in this well,_ replied Edelweiss._ It is council season for nymph, after leaf fall. Field nymph start next week, water nymph in a few days. So many wood nymph – they start days ago. Lots of business. The world is untended so long. Wood and water nymph have major issues._

Friedrich considered that, then asked, _What are these major issues? Mazoku experience two realities today, and Lucy mentions another well. Are these related?_

_Yes, very serious. Wood nymph let two wells live, have renegade reality. Now reconcile. I feel merge tests begin this afternoon. Big mess. _Edelweiss was sympathetic – to the wood nymphs' problem, not the Mazokus'.

_Reconcile – how reconcile?_ asked Friedrich.

_One reality, of course._

With a chill, Friedrich suddenly remembered his nymph-parent Tariel's reaction when he learned that the nymphs were back. _"But I won't see you on the other side, Friedrich. It's __**this**__ that is over."_ Tariel and Garena had cried on and off all that afternoon, rather than eagerly anticipate the return of the nymphs, as everyone had expected. And they had… simply not explained. As usual.

Friedrich fought hard to stay calm – Edelweiss didn't owe him any answers. He asked, _Which well ends?_

_Difficult question,_ she allowed. _One more real. Other more moral, better well. One intentional, other renegade._

_Which is this well?_

_More real. Intentional._

Friedrich's heart sank. That meant she believed the _other_ was moral, though renegade. And he was well aware of the profound differences between nymph morality and demon. _How create one well, from two?_

_Maybe whole, maybe merge. One law, _said Edelweiss, and disappeared.

"Did you… learn anything?" prompted Murata, when he felt Friedrich had stared into space long enough.

"Yes," said Friedrich. "But you won't like it." _It's futile to defy the nymphs!_ he railed within himself. But another, more nymph part of himself countered, _One law._

"Alright. We can't ask the dragons to come to us, so let's ask Guya to take us to them." Guya was Lord Erick's wife, and crack elf troubleshooter. If you wanted to get somewhere in a hurry in the Trondheim mountain winter, Guya was a pro.

"I come too!" said Lucy, grabbing her father around the waist. "I can help!"

"Bring her," encouraged Friedrich, before Murata could scold her back to bed. "She already has been a huge help."

Within a half hour, they were in the stables, packing the sleigh. Friedrich drew Alana aside for a quiet word before they departed.

"Are you sure, Alana? You're a Queen in the other reality. Aldrich is well, with two grown children. Frieya is a beautiful grown woman. You and I are happy there. We could… let this be."

"You think too much, husband," scoffed Alana. "I am me, simple as that. Maybe she's stronger, maybe she's not. But Queen or Lady, I lead my people to_ survive, _not to… _surrender_ to non-existence. I am me, and I choose to live. And you'd better, too, because I shall accept no substitutes. Succeed, Friedrich. And come back home to me."

Friedrich chuckled and gave her a kiss. _One law._ "Yes, ma'am."

And their sleigh, driven by the madcap elf Guya, was off with a whoosh across the snow, a couple hours past midnight.

The one law was survival of the fittest. Nymphs considered the one law the final arbiter, the wellspring of all morality.

-oOo-

Wolfram was surprised how well his father's stupid tea party was working. Granted the sedative sagewort tea had a lot to do with it. He'd helped Professor Symbian seed the _'virus'_ through the garrison, and remained as host healer by the tea cauldron, while Symbian and Giesela headed into town. Wolfram felt vastly better himself, after having told his story to ten or fifteen complete strangers, and was rapt by how their stories painted an ever more vivid picture of that _other _world.

By now, Wolfram had a bevy of army medics he felt were ready to carry the good word to other towns. He saw two dragons arrive up at the Castle, and was itching to go find out what was up, but he attended to the public welfare first. He'd already dispatched the first group of medics, vision-free, to the farther reaches of Shin Makoku. The second half of the group, vision veterans, he planned to deploy closer by.

"Next, Lutenberg – Holger, you're from Lutenberg, aren't you? …Holger? Anybody see where Holger went?" Most shook their heads. Two timid medics at the back were staring at something unseen. Wolfram decided they were _other_ at the moment, and pressed on. "Well, we'll wait on that until Holger gets back. Isarhof is our next priority – anybody from Isarhof?" He looked up again, and everyone shook their heads no. Not including the two who'd been spaced out a moment ago. They were gone. _Gone?_

"Did… anybody see Ulf and Volker leave, just now?" Wolfram's heart started beating faster, his palms moisten. But he was an experienced commander of men. He wasn't allowed to command anymore, but… that was for self-destructive tendencies, not lack of leadership talent. The medics' real commander stood behind him, to authorize these assignments.

Wolfram counted the men before him. _Twelve left. There were fifteen._ "No. Well, is anybody else from Shin Makoku proper? Perhaps we should just… start there."

"I'm from Asfodel," offered medic Sven.

"Excellent, Sven! Commander, perhaps two troopers could accompany Sven – " Wolfram stopped. The commander he'd turned to speak with, was gone. He swallowed, and turned slowly back to the medics. _Nine left. All staring in horror at where their commander stood a moment ago._ Wolfram licked his lip. "Did anyone see the commander leave?"

Nine jerky nods answered. "He just… vanished," explained one medic.

"And Dale and Rudolf…" offered another from the back row, pointing at Dale and Rudolf's empty spaces.

"I see," said Wolfram. He deliberately and neatly folded his page of priority Shin Makoku cities and pocketed it, to buy himself a moment to think. "Medics, we're going to postpone this operation while I consult with the Castle. Please carry on here. I imagine… some people will have renewed concerns. I suggest you… sing. Get the troopers back out here into the square, and… singing. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen."

To the accompaniment of an off-color marching song, Wolfram took the garrison steps to the castle proper two at a time, and nearly ran to Yuuri's situation room.

As he slowed in the office area, Wolfram overheard a guard say, "But Lord Günter was here just a moment ago! Where could he have gone?"

_Günter too?_ Wolfram's heart quailed, and he leaned against a wall to pull himself together before walking into the situation room –

And found himself seated in his grandfather Wolfred's conference room.

-oOo-

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	5. No Contest

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed!

**Chapter 5 – No Contest**

_Present day, Well of the One King – _

Hours before Wolfram's medics started disappearing, Aldrich woke Manfred gently with a kiss. "Love, there's nothing more you can do here. Yuuri has requested you come collaborate with him at Blood Pledge Castle. I'd like you to go, and take the children with you. The boys are packing, and the nanny is packing for the twins."

Manfred didn't like the way Aldrich was stroking his body as though memorizing it, yet failing to meet his eyes. "Why?" he asked quietly.

"I just had my seventh experience… I've learned how to maintain consciousness during them, fully aware of _his_ thoughts and memories, and mine… Garena is advising them, Manfred. The wood nymphs are behind all this. A large faction among them insists that these two realities must be resolved into one. They're experimenting on us, to see how to accomplish that."

_"What?"_ Manfred bit out. "And my own father is…" He stopped. They were both his fathers, Wolfred and Garena. "Well, I guess it makes sense that _other-_Garena is on my _other-_other-father's side… We need to get _our_ Garena working for us like that!"

Reluctantly, Aldrich said, "I'm… not at all sure there _is_ an _other-_Garena, Manfred. He seemed all too familiar with us, and our weaknesses. The next wave begins in mid-afternoon. In this round, the stronger wins. Garena called them the _'defaults'_ – no contests. The nymphs plan to do a first evaluation of which reality is _'stronger'_, based on these defaults. You'll win by default, because you have no alternate in the other world. Yuuri – his counterpart has never risen to his challenges, never grew to encompass Shinou's power, like our Yuuri has. No contest at all. Gwendal and Cecilie, the same. Others… If they lose, they disappear from our world, and begin merging into their other sides. I want you to join forces with Yuuri, and give it your best shot. To save _our_ world, _our_ children."

"What about you? I won't go without you, you know that." Manfred gripped Aldrich's thigh.

"Manfred… I can't win," said Aldrich, with a sad half-smile, finally meeting his eyes briefly, then flinching away, instead focusing on his hand tracing up Manfred's side. "He's _Maou_, Manfred. And I, _I_ am Lord Bielenfeld. My place is here, to help my people as best I can, as long as I can. Then… I'm a default."

"No!"

"Don't worry about me. Worry about the children. Please, Manfred, do this for me. Think about it. How can our Dietrich prevail against a young man three times his age? Who's had two happy parents, living life to the fullest. Efram, against King Wolfred? Manfred, you don't remember Wolfred like I do. The man's a force of nature, a king of kings, in his prime. Trenton… I have no idea. The babies… if Avram and Margritte have any counterpart at all, they'll lose. And disappear. Wolfram," he frowned, "Garena seems to think our Wolfram will default, because he's a… bottom. I rather resent that remark."

Manfred chuckled half-heartedly. "I'll bet you do. Submissive is such a relative term. Don't give up, Aldrich, love. You're no default, either!"

Aldrich was crying silently as he spoke. "I can't win, Manfred. Against a Maou? Me? My life… an alcoholic, a cripple, sunk by Glynda's illness. Nearly 150 years I was heir, and ended up having to take the domain from my father by force. He gave it to Wolfred by _age_ 150, and no wonder. I have no more chance than Yuuri's wimp counterpart. Please, Manfred, I'm begging you. Do what you can, as fast as you can, to stop this reality-merging. Save our children."

"…And you," whispered Manfred, tracing Aldrich's beloved face with his fingers, fire healer flames of passion caressing his beloved. "I _will_ see you on the other side of this, Aldrich."

"That would be nice," Aldrich said with a resigned smile. "I look forward to it."

But Aldrich didn't offer a touch of his true fire in return. Ten minutes later, Manfred and the five children were on the last fast launch, with full wind-user crew. Efram and Dietrich remembered the same _other_ meeting Aldrich did, though they grasped far less, since they had no control, no consciousness of their _here_-selves within the _other_. They huddled in Manfred's arms, each holding one of the newborn twins.

Trenton, Manfred didn't know as well. "Are you alright, Trent?"

"I'm tougher than the _other_ Trenton," the boy insisted, confirming that he already knew about the _'defaults'_ threat. "Because Aldrich and you are my foster-fathers. But I don't want to live in a world with only half the people I know. We're gonna solve this, Dietrich," he said. "We _will_." The little boy sat down next to Dietrich in the launch, and put a reassuring arm over his friend's shoulder.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the Five Kings – _

There was no way the self-styled Günter Lord Krist could know about nymph reality-merging schemes. Yes, King Wolfred sponsored his Krist resistance movement, providing supplies and money to the Krist Mazoku. But Krist was far from Castletown, and the rebel warlord always on the move. Wolfred couldn't have kept Günter apprised if he'd wanted to. And Wolfred wasn't wasting energy today thinking about lost Krist and Khrennikov.

Günter was perched on a rock in the woods, surrounded by his partner Jans and their top lieutenants, considering his next plan of attack on the Mizrati. Last night had been a resounding victory, despite the bizarre intrusion of other-worldly visions. He wanted to follow it up with a great symbolic gesture, some kind of attack in Krist Kringle, the capital, he rather thought. A dramatic _'night of knives',_ slaying accursed collaborators in their sleep, appealed to his sense of theatre.

When _other-_Günter popped into his head, he looked up, glanced around, unsure of why he felt he was being watched, then shrugged. He was returning to fantasies of how he could stage his _'night of knives'_ for maximum terror, when _other-_Günter commented inside his head, _Ewww! That's so not nice._

All of them had been suffering visions of another world for the past 24 hours. They recognized these voices within as the _other._ None of them had a great deal of respect for their _others_. Jans was the first one to comment. "Hey! My alter ego, that idiot kid from Donaghie, just took up residence in my head! He's all smug because he escaped five lashes."

_Jans!_ commented _other-_Günter in rapture. _Oh, how handsome he looks! Yes, he's aged well, hasn't he! Oh, this is so fun! Until now I haven't been aware of myself in these visions. Can I run things? Let's go give Jans' buttocks a discreet little fondle!_

_Let's not,_ commented warlord Günter. _Shut up!_

Salix – Tariel's new best friend, the nymph of the pussy willow – had waited for just that grimace of irritation, to time his appearance, in exactly the direction Günter was grimacing, so there could be no doubt he'd arrived out of thin air. "Hello, I am wood nymph Salix," he said. "You know of us?"

Günter's eyes widened, studying the nymph. About 4'10", the seeming boy had a peculiar hairstyle, kind of an all-over egg shape of soft grey hair, growing _up_, with bright yellow hair tips. "Yes, I've heard your race was restored recently. By Hon Makoku, like the other races, I assume?"

Actually, the nymphs were a mystery. Even the five kings in Hon Makoku didn't know how they were suddenly here again. But they were reportedly very powerful. They could travel instantaneously across the world, commanded the respect and cooperation of dragons, and could read the future with great precision. Some also thought the nymphs were responsible for the amazing recent increase in the bounty of the forests and fields and streams.

Salix smiled, and didn't answer the question. "You have visions today, of life in other world. That world is _real_. Much better than this world. Krist and Khrennikov still part of strong Shin Makoku. Günter advisor to great Yuuri Maou, in Blood Pledge Castle."

Günter's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Salix had baited his hook well. Günter may not have been able to tell that level of detail in his brief experiences as _other-_Günter. But put in the context of Blood Pledge Castle… _It wasn't my imagination, then? Blood Pledge still beautiful and strong? A whole Shin Makoku still kept faith with Krist?_ "How would you know?"

"Nymph see both worlds. Other world Günter failed to save King Wolfred or Jans. Shinou tricked him." Salix shook his head in mock sadness.

"_Tricked_ me?" Günter demanded in outrage. "Shinou _tricked_ me to fail in my duty?"

_Other-_Günter in his head said sadly, _Shinou? Oh, it's true, I failed to save them, but tricked by Shinou? I can't believe the Great One would author such a cruel dishonor!_ Warlord Günter found that he now had memories of that _other _version of that fateful day in Mizrat, and could well believe the idiot in his head was duped.

Salix didn't give him time to realize that there'd been only the one idiot, before the wells diverged that day. "Yes, horrible Shinou! But – because of trick, Krist and Khrennikov safe, Giesela live, nymph restore – much better world. That why Shinou sacrifice Günter integrity, to save world. And I think – you would do anything to save Giesela, save Krist. True?"

"Of course, true!"

"Anything?"

"Of course anything!"

"Winner today is stronger one. You and your men _very _strong! By default, you win, but then win world where Krist is lost. For _other_ Krist, where _Mazoku_ rule, you must choose to _lose_ to weaker one inside head. You, and all men with you. Understand?"

Jans took his meaning first. "I surrender to the chump in my head, and Krist is restored, and my daughter Giesela saved?"

"Yes. Simple," encouraged Salix. "But all Krist freedom fighters do. Willing?"

"Of course we're willing! I'll go first!" Jans surrendered to the brat in his head, and promptly disappeared.

_Oh, bravo, Jans! Such magnificent courage! Say, don't you love Salix's hairstyle? I think I should try that, but with hot pink hair tips, to go with my lavender hair._

_Shut up in there,_ warlord Günter warned.

Jans popped back into existence. "It's true, Günter!" he yelled. "I swear it's all true, men! Surrender to the_ other_ within, as I have done! I shall see you again on the other side, where Krist is free!" And he disappeared again – to Donaghie actually, not Krist, but Krist_ was_ free… on the other side of the country. And one after another, the rest of Günter's men began also to disappear. Several went off at a run, to spread the word of this new means of restoring Krist to Mazoku rule, before surrendering themselves to their weak counterparts from the well of the one king.

_Is it really true?_ Günter inquired within. _In this other world, Krist is free, and Giesela still lives?_

_Absolutely! _confirmed the Günter within. _Oh, and the Maou Yuuri! So beautiful, so visionary, so kind! And my late night bath parties are to die for! There's this boy Chad I met just the other night – _

_Would you stop babbling!_ The men around Günter continued to disappear, as they completed their internal dialogues, leaving with happy faces of anticipated victory.

"You go too," Salix prompted, "or won't work." He shook his head sadly. "Then Krist languish under heel of Mizrati oppressor forever." No, it wasn't the sort of thing Salix would say. But while planning this conversation, he'd reviewed a number of futures. Günter belted out that silly sentence seven times out of ten.

"Damn. Alright, I surrender!" By now, he was the only one left in the clearing.

_Hmm, hmm, hmm, la li la di da-ahhhh…._

_I said I__** surrender!**__ You are the stronger! Because Krist is free!_

_Oh! Well, if you're sure…_

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the One and Five Kings – _

Because everyone was so elated to see Jans' alter ego re-appear, the brat got off without his lashes for stoning the kobold family.

Dale and Rudolf reappeared amongst the medics in the garrison square. The others made a big deal out of their safe return, and exhorted the troops to sing even louder!

A number of other lesser wood nymphs, like Salix, worked throughout Krist and Khrennikov and eastern occupied Shin Makoku, in the well of the five kings, persuading others to surrender to regain their freedom from the human occupation forces. And the balance of defaults tipped.

-oOo-

Friedrich and Murata, with little Lucy the centaur, had arrived some time ago, followed later by Manfred and his children, whom he insisted weren't allowed out of his sight. In fact, he asked a guard to fetch Bertram, as well, his son whom Yuuri and Wolfram had adopted. Friedrich, then Manfred, briefed Yuuri on how the nymphs were at the bottom of all this, and explained the next phase of disappearing _'defaults'_. Günter was dispatched to fetch Morgif from Yuuri's room, for an experiment Murata and Friedrich had cooked up along the way.

It was on his way back from that errand, bearing Morgif, that Günter disappeared in front of the guards, right as Wolfram was reaching the situation room.

-oOo-

_No!_ screamed Shin Makoku's Wolfram, within Hon Makoku's Wolfram, in King Wolfred's conference room. For Wolfram had been taken as a default, as well, losing a no contest against his alter ego in the well of the five kings. But Shin-Wolfram wasn't nearly the pushover he'd been taken for.

Wolfram reappeared in front of Yuuri's situation room, holding his head and screaming, _"NO! You're a domineering pervert! I love Yuuri! I won't lose to you!"_

In fear, Manfred clutched baby Avram and Efram tight. Trenton and Friedrich grabbed Dietrich and baby Margritte. Yuuri and Gwendal and Conrad ran out of the room to attempt to go to Wolfram's aid.

Now _Hon-_Wolfram was caught inside of _Shin-_Wolfram, in the well of the one king. It was his turn to scream, _"NO! You're a wimp and so's Yuuri! I love Dietrich!"_

The screams were no longer silent. Wolfram and Wolfram popped in and out of existence on both sides, screaming out loud, before onlookers whose mouths hung open.

Efram disappeared. Younger Dietrich disappeared. Manfred was left hugging a screaming Avram, Friedrich a terrified Trenton and Margritte.

Conrad grasped his head, as a voice inside cried, _No! Not among the Mazoku who disdained me! Please no…!_

Gwendal twitched in great irritation. Yet another pointless dialogue between Pampered Pig and Cunning Kitty had started up in the back of his head. _Shut up!_

Cecilie, holding Bertram in her lap, felt the gentle rock-rocking back and forth of the lost Cecilie in her mind, and spoke to her gently._ This is my baby Wolfram's baby Bertram, isn't he pretty? He's so much like Wolfram as a baby, but with a much sweeter temperament…_

Wolfram screamed, _"My step-brother Dietrich's an innocent little boy! And I love my children!"_ And screamed back, _"My Dietrich's __**hot!**__ And I don't __**want **__any whiny little ankle-biters!"_

Shin-Wolfram, versus Hon-Wolfram, caroming off the walls, continued their duel across the Blood Pledge Castle hallway, and simultaneously King Wolfred's Castle Bielenfeld conference room.

-oOo-

Shin Makoku's Lord Aldrich hadn't entirely conceded defeat. He only conceded that he couldn't win a confrontation against Hon Makoku's Aldrich Maou. But then, Lord Aldrich wasn't much given to confronting people head-on. He was far better at persuasion and subterfuge. Indeed, it was generally agreed that Lord Aldrich could sell snow to Trondheim, or water to fish. In Shin Makoku, it was commonly accepted that the only way to beat Lord Aldrich, was to gag him so he couldn't talk. Most would recommend a blindfold, as well. His large green eyes were expressive and compelling.

Of course, in this case his opponent was… himself. His only hope against Aldrich Maou was that his greatest strength was… his own weaknesses. For Aldrich Maou had had a good life. He'd had it easy compared to Lord Aldrich. He had a happy marriage, with a happy and understanding wife, who tactfully looked the other way at her bisexual husband's male lovers. His children were perfectly healthy, and he'd never had a reason to doubt they would be. He'd never lost an arm, never drowned his pain in a bottle. Aside from polite discretion with his extramarital affairs, he didn't have to hide his true love, the way Lord Aldrich had suppressed his feelings for Manfred. He'd never had to face the test of Troll Mother renewing hositilities against Shin Makoku. The retired Friedrich had already figured out how Aldrich could restore the ghosts of Trondheim using Morgif, and Troll Mother passed away, before Aldrich Maou reached his 200th birthday. All in all, Aldrich Maou had had it pretty good, whereas Lord Aldrich had struggled every inch of the way to overcome his trials.

Which meant Lord Aldrich's spiritual strength blew _other-_Aldrich's away. _No contest._

Lord Aldrich industriously worked to help his people through this crisis, until about 20 minutes before the expected time for his default. Then he went into his garden, relaxed, and loved Aldrich Maou, and himself, and both their children and spouses and worlds, completely, unconditionally, with all the love Aldrich could muster. Doubling and redoubling the love, whole-heartedly and without reservation. And when the default took him away, it was this ball of blindingly pure, powerful love that suddenly transferred into Aldrich Maou's head.

Aldrich Maou had been about to forward a suggestion for how they could strengthen Hon Makoku's people, better to win these contests and save their world. But at the sudden influx of love, he had to stop speaking in mid-sentence. It was as though an overpowering, uplifting wave of feeling closed off his windpipe, and literally took his breath away.

King Wolfred stared at him. "Aldrich? Are you alright?"

Aldrich Maou's mouth hung open. "I –, I -," he stammered.

About then, King Wolfred's grandson Wolfram started popping in and out of existence, flailing all over the room, screaming gibberish at an invisible opponent.

Aldrich's ninety-odd year old son Dietrich suddenly gasped, _"Oh!"_ and held his head, feeling the same sudden lump in his throat that his father did. It was like a trusting little warm fuzzy suddenly snuggled into his mind, murmuring, _"I love you. I'm not scared. You can't hurt me because I love you. You're nice inside. You're grown up, but you're still me inside. You still have the little Dietrich inside you, and you love him, you love me, you would never be mean to me. I love you and you love me too. I love Chichiue loves me, I love Manfred loves me, I love Grandfather loves me, I love Chichiue Brendan loves me…"_

King Wolfred put his hand to his temple in consternation. There was some gremlin in his mind as well. _"I love you, I love me, all the world's a shining sea, love bump bump love bump, love tra la love la, love luuurve luff loooorve, oh-OH! I've got a loverly bunch of coconuts, ya ya, here they are all standing in a row, ya ya ya, …"_ Wolfred also made a strangled sound, but on him it wasn't so much a feeling of love bringing a lump to his throat, as much as stifling the urge to laugh out loud.

Inside Aldrich Maou's mind, Lord Aldrich began to speak. _I love you, Aldrich. And all of your world, your children, and oh, to see Glynda well and happy! As I love my world, my Manfred and our children. Aldrich, you are mine own self, and I love you, and I refuse to fight you. You are not my enemy. We're being used, manipulated, by the nymphs. And I love them, too. They too are not my enemy. There is a solution, which we can find together, for all our sakes. Please, Aldrich, lead as Maou, stand firm against this cruel false conflict! We can refuse to fight! We can insist on loving each other, as ourselves, because we are! We are ourselves! Please, Aldrich! _

Wolfram popped into existence again, bounding off the table, screaming, _"My Yuuri can totally trounce Aldrich as Maou!"_ And then slammed around the other way, and screamed, _"Stop hiding behind __**Yuuri's**__ skirts! __**You**__ are a mommy __**bottom,**__ and don't stand a prayer against __**me!"**_ Flames shot helter-skelter about the conference room. Which was quite fireproof, as was all of Castle Bielenfeld – all the von Bielenfelds were fire users, and they all had wicked tempers.

And Wolfram popped out of existence again, back to the other world.

"Enough," said Aldrich. He rose and yelled, "I say _ENOUGH!"_ Orange-green-blue sparks of fire rose with his blond-blue hair into the air, grown longer and wilder, and his huge green eyes blazed, fire healer flame in their depths. The Maou drew Morgif and raised him high. _"Morgif, I command you! Draw these spirits from another world out, and send them HOME! We REFUSE to fight OURSELVES!"_ And the Maou swung Morgif in a great arc across the conference table. Wisps of soul identity swirled out of the default-winners around the room and popped into Morgif's now-huge gaping maw.

-oOo-

The dueling Wolfram-and-Wolfram popped back to the Blood Pledge Castle hallway, spewing fountains of flame everywhere. Yuuri was going mental using water majutsu to douse the fires – for his décor was _not_ fireproof, thankyouverymuch, Wolfram! Curtains, chairs, wall hangings, rugs, the walls and ceiling themselves were in danger.

_"You flunked out as a commander, and aren't even qualified as a healer!" _Wolfram ranted, then spun and counter-ranted, _"It takes more strength to love and nurture than kill people!"_

_"Morgif!"_ yelled Efram, suddenly popped back into existence in Yuuri's situation room. "Yuuri, swing Morgif! To send the defaults back to the other world!"

Dietrich popped back as well. "Chichiue is swinging Morgif on the other side! Please, Yuuri, you too!"

And that brought Yuuri back to his senses. He spotted Morgif on the floor, ducked past a Wolfram pirouetting in his yelling match with himself, and grasped the sword.

_"You're just a courtier__** catamite**__, and I'm a prince among__** kings!"**_ Spin. _"I'm training under my father, the greatest healer in the __**world!"**_Spin. "_Your father's alive? It doesn't matter! Your __**mother**__ is a __**whore!"**_ Spin. _"How __**DARE**__ you insult my __**mother?!"**_

Günter suddenly reappeared. Fortunately, his anti-majutsu defense reflexes were awesome, from his years fighting the Tronds in the Great War. Fortunately, because Wolfram went berserk at this insult to his mother and spun around spewing a curtain flame in every direction. Efram leapt to help Günter contain the blaze.

"Enough!" said Yuuri. "I say _ENOUGH!"_ Blue flames rose with his black hair, and Maou mode came upon him. He drew Morgif and raised him high. _"Morgif, I command you! Draw these spirits from another world out, and send them HOME! We REFUSE to fight OURSELVES!"_ And the Maou swung Morgif in a great arc across the hallway. Wisps of soul identity swirled out of the default-winners and popped into Morgif's now-huge gaping maw.

And by the simultaneous and vast acts of will of both Maous, every last default was restored, to the well of the five kings and the well of the one king, where they came from.

Lord Aldrich, back in his lawn chair, hugged himself and cried in relief, that for now at least, Glynda and Wolfred and Dietrich and Tatya, and Manfred and Dietrich and Efram and Margritte and Avram and Wolfram, were all safe!

Warlord Günter and his lover Jans and all their lieutenants popped back into their clearing in the woods of Mizrati-occupied Krist. "No!" Günter cried. "It didn't work! No, wait! We surrendered! We wanted to lose! _Take us back!"_

In Yuuri's situation room, Conrad, Gwendal, and Cecilie all had their sad little guests depart. Conrad and Cecilie blessed their _others_, praying their pain would heal. Gwendal muttered under his breath, "Good riddance, pathetic idiot."

And Lord Wolfram, freed from his internal battle with Prince Wolfram, stood bent over, hands on knees, chest heaving for breath, on one _fierce_ adrenaline jag. _"NO!" _he cried, between gasps. _"Bring that… self-satisfied… pompous ass… back here… RIGHT NOW! …I can… TAKE HIM! …He's… ROAST! …ARGHH!"_

Gwendal grabbed the furious baby brother firebug and slung him over a shoulder. "We'll take care of Wolfram for you, Sire…"

Grinning Conrad was right behind him. "Wolfram just needs a little space to blow off steam."

Manfred left the pissy Wolfram to his elder half-brothers to deal with. He himself was too busy hugging Efram and Dietrich in relief, and kissing Margritte and Avram and Bertram over and over.

"Chewy temper fire!" commented Bertram, eyes wide. "Wimpy turn blue!"

And the blue fire died out of Yuuri's hair, which gently wafted back down to his shoulders, and he sheathed his sword. And unlike his more temperamental husband, he simply stood a moment taking a few deep breaths, to dissipate the adrenaline rush.

Then Yuuri said grimly – to no one in particular, though Friedrich and Murata were listening – "But this isn't over yet. Lord Friedrich!"

"Yes, Sire."

"It's time we _**demand**_ an audience with your nymph kin."

"Agreed, Sire."

-oOo-

Was that too confusing?

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	6. Renegade Nymph

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed!

**Chapter 6 – Renegade Nymph**

_Present day, Well of the One King – _

Yuuri finally managed to mobilize Friedrich, Murata, Manfred, and all their many children – for Manfred wouldn't be parted from any of them, and his ex-wife Cecilie was in emphatic agreement. By then, Gwendal and Conrad had managed to wear Wolfram out, and they joined the throng as well, Wolfram sheepishly hanging his head on Yuuri's shoulder a moment to murmur, "Sorry for being an embarrassment, again…" So they were quite a crowd when Yuuri stopped in front of a stately tree. But Friedrich kept walking.

"Ah – Lord Friedrich?" Yuuri asked.

"I don't know the beech," Friedrich calmly replied. "Ah! There." And he walked up to a small tree that Yuuri wouldn't have noticed even in bloom, let alone November bare. His hands could have easily encircled its slender trunk.

"So," Friedrich continued, "I called Tariel and my brother from Trondheim, and neither heard me. A field nymph told me they were in the other well –"

"Excuse me, Lord Friedrich," interrupted Yuuri peevishly, "but what exactly do you mean by _'well'_?"

"Good question, but I'd prefer you ask a nymph. That among other questions…" Friedrich replied. "Point being, Yuuri – I couldn't get them to answer. But you have a lot more power. So, let's try this again."

Friedrich lay his hand on the bole of the dogwood and closed his eyes briefly. Then he shook his head. "Still not in this well. Sire? You have a whistle?"

Friedrich's eyes widened as Yuuri pulled out two whistles, and Efram brought out a whistle as well. "Oho! We could try that… Sire, _this_ one," he pointed to Quercus' whistle, "at _that_ red oak. Efram and Wolfram, please blow these Garena whistles while I summon Tariel at _this_ tree. Full maryoku focus. When Yuuri's ready… The one to your left is the oak, Yuuri… _Now._"

Nothing happened at first. But then Yuuri started to get mad. His people were confused and frightened, his beloved Wolfram tortured before his eyes, possessed by a stranger, this was… _UNJUST!_ His hair rose and snaked with blue power, as he blew on the whistle, demanding that Quercus answer him! Wolfram, then Efram and Friedrich, glowed as well, fire healer halos _on_, at the little dogwood tree.

"Friedrich!" Tariel cried, and appeared in his son's arms, with a brief hug. The little blond nymph looked around quizzically at this large sample of his mortal descendants. But he said matter-of-factly, "Yuuri, Quercus comes soon. You can stop blowing whistle."

"Why didn't you answer before, Mother?" Friedrich asked Tariel sternly. "Are you aware of what's happening here? These _'experiments'_ on us, on how to merge the wells?" The two made an incongruous pair. Though Friedrich looked only middle-aged these days – an effect the nearly 800-year-old man claimed was Yuuri's doing, but wasn't – his _'mother'_ looked like a small human boy of about ten, dressed in a simple sleeveless tan shift.

"I don't answer because stuck in _stupid_ meeting. Because I help restore nymphs, they call me Great Nymph. I want to quit, but even if they only listen a little, Quercus says better than not listen at all." Tariel glowered. "But I _doubt_ it."

"Now, now, Tariel, it's an honor to be elevated to the Great Nymphs!" said Quercus, grinning, suddenly standing next to the smaller nymph. "Though I must say, I too am very glad you interrupted, Friedrich, Yuuri, friends. The meetings can be a little dull."

_"Dull!?"_ Tariel nearly spat at him. He complained to Friedrich, "Great Ones insane! Cruel! Evil!"

"Haha! Yes, the process is a bit messy sometimes," Quercus allowed, huge red-brown eyes dancing merrily. Unlike the lesser nymphs, Quercus appeared of normal height for a man, slightly shorter than Conrad and Gwendal, but more stocky, with shoulder-length red-brown layers of hair. "Say, Yuuri, sorry I haven't been answering my whistle, but as Tariel said, we've been stuck in council. It would've been very impolitic for Tariel or myself to leave."

"_'Impolitic'_," Tariel grumbled. "Insane."

"Besides," Quercus continued, "you were concerned about the more powerful Mazoku races and the future. But, of course the future depends on how we straighten out this business of which _past_. So, it's really not the time to address that –"

"Oh, I _agree!"_ Yuuri interrupted emphatically, having walked back to the group, squaring off two feet in front of Quercus, hair still snaking with blue fire. "It's the _current _crisis I wish to discuss. Quercus! Did you create these two realities with Shinou?"

Quercus grinned broadly. "Oh, he's much brighter than you led me to believe, Tariel! It took the Great Nymphs nearly a day to determine it was all my fault."

"Great Nymphs are slow," replied Tariel darkly.

"Well, they're a might testy," allowed Quercus, "after being imprisoned over four millenia. You've been known to be a touch testy yourself, Little Friend."

"Calls me _'Great Nymph'_ and_ 'Little Friend'_ in same conversation," observed Tariel, frowning at him. Quercus laughed.

"Excuse me," Yuuri butted in, blue fire flaring in his hair. "Explain for me please, Quercus. How did there come to be two realities? And how _DARE_ the nymphs toy with us like this, try to _merge_ us into non-existence?"

"Well, not _you,_ Yuuri," Quercus replied equably,. "_You'll_ continue in any case. It's only a question of which companions, and which past, at issue in the nymph council. This is such a large group, perhaps the two of us could just chat one on one…"

Manfred pointedly sat down a few feet away, next to his overloaded four-baby carriage, and signaled his three boys to come have a seat front and center. Wolfram and Cecilie followed suit, shepherding Frieda, Greta, and Bertram to sit and listen as well. As a centaur, Lucy did not sit, instead snuggling up under her father Murata's arm. Conrad and Gwendal stood by Yuuri and Murata, arms crossed aggressively.

As soon as Wolfram was seated, Bertram was up like a shot, to jump into Yuuri's arms. "Wimpy! Careful Kwerks," he warned. Quercus' affable expression disappeared for a moment, and his huge brown eyes briefly blazed red at the blond toddler, before settling back to bland cheeriness. Yuuri nodded agreement at Bertram, and held him in his arms.

"Alrighty," said Quercus. "Perhaps it's best to begin at the beginning. I see that Shinou has already told you, Yuuri, that I was awake and aware in captivity. I helped Shinou plot the future, finding the path that freed him and the nymphs from our binding to Soushu the Destroyer. Thank you for that, by the way.

"The other well – the well of the five kings – was simply one of those possible future explorations. One among thousands. I explored it much further than most, as I did with this one, the well of the one king. And yes, even after Shinou decided to… _terminate_… the other well, I kept it going for comparison purposes, and learned a great deal from it over the years. It's really a much better well."

"Stop," said Yuuri. "What exactly is a _'well'_?"

"Oh. When a nymph perceives futures short-term, that's more like… sifting through fleeting mental projections. A lesser nymph like Tariel can't do much more than that, explore branches from today into … oh, a few years at the most. Of course the number of possibilities quickly approaches infinity. But the future isn't really like that. Viable futures are much more structured, divided by pivotal events that enable or disable the well. As I think you've already realized, the pivot between your reality, and the well of the five kings, was the death or survival of King Wolfred von Bielenfeld, Friedrich's intended successor.

"Now, _that_ well, where Wolfred lived, is a _strong,_ robust well of futures, with Wolfred himself serving as… Hm. We call them _'wells',_ as in _'gravity wells'_. Just as planets are pulled to orbit the much more massive sun, so do an entire family of possible futures, organize around a central attractor. Wolfred, you might say, was the center of gravity _'going our way'_, the direction for you to emancipate us, Yuuri. In the well of futures revolving around Wolfred, _'going our way'_ won out regardless of what anyone else did. A most excellent well. Anyway, a great nymph finds such wells and breathes sufficient life into them, to let them play themselves out. And then we can explore the future, oh, indefinitely. Because it's… not arbitrary. There's a central attractor – like Wolfred's driving will – that organizes and focuses the wealth of future possibility.

"In the end, that's why Shinou had him killed, of course. Too strong willed. After Wolfred's son Manfred died, less than sixty years after the pivot of Wolfred's non-death, the five kings refused to listen to Shinou any further. Wolfred, Friedrich, Aldrich, Julius, Adeldan, they all forswore allegiance. And of course the von Trondheims despised Shinou even in this well."

Yuuri backtracked, "You said you created thousands of these wells. Do they all… _live_… like Wolfred's well?"

"No. Normally, the exploratory well of a great nymph is a temporary game of pretend. The souls of all those involved take part, and play out the scenario, all in good fun. I can't keep track of all the myriad details any better than Tariel can, but I don't have to. Other souls come and keep track of themselves. But it's not _real_. I only breathed enough life maryoku into the well of the five kings, for these other souls – just wisps of them, nothing like an incarnation! – to play the game.

"Now, construction of future wells is _solely_ carried out by the great nymphs, and _only_ for the purpose of finding a _'good' _future. That's why other souls are willing to play – they too have a vested interest. But this time… Mm, several things conspired. For one thing, I myself invested life maryoku to keep the well of the five kings running, _long_ after Shinou ordered its termination. We ran it almost all the way to the present time, oh, 140 or 150 years past its pivotal event. But it's far older, since it's the _proper_ future of the well I created to explore Theophilus von Bielenfeld having children with Tariel. So, a vast number of souls invested a wisp of life maryoku, for over 800 years.

"Which is normally still not a problem. Because if the future is terrible and the well can't be salvaged, all participants happily withdraw the well's life, and that's that. _Nymphs_ especially do not... _interfere_ in the what-if wells of other nymphs.

"But in this case… Shinou insisted on a _worse_ well. So, stakeholders didn't divest of the better well. Including me. In fact, the well of the one king is such a poor well, that I simply couldn't have navigated _here _without the solid accomplishments of the _other_ well for reference. And then –"

Yuuri interrupted, "So you yourself, and these part-souls play-acting – you all wanted that future well, and not this one? But Shinou forced you to create this one instead?"

Quercus looked offended. "I created both wells. Shinou extinguished the other by getting Wolfred killed, and throwing all of his life maryoku –_ ours! _– into the well of the one king, to interfere and force his will."

"But you disagreed with Shinou's choice," insisted Yuuri. "Why?"

Tariel, who'd been watching the mounting wiggle quotient of Dietrich and Trenton with great sympathy, cut in. "Yuuri, Shinou wants well of _you_, so you save _him_. Anything else, not care. Five kings is better well because get almost to complete solution, with no interfering. In Yuuri-one-king well, Shinou interfere constantly. Kill Wolfred. Torture and kill von Wincotts. Maim Aldrich. Maim Manfred. Gang rape Wolfram. And more. This is shallow meandering well, no structure. Strong Yuuri comes after long wait – very iffy. You _now,_ very good, strong well. But path to you now… _highly_ unlikely."

Quercus nodded. "But – try as we might, we couldn't get the well of the five kings to release Shinou and conquer Soushu. So, Shinou intervened."

"But the other well didn't end," Yuuri prodded.

Tariel reluctantly continued, "Fifteen years after Wolfred dies or not… Garena doesn't know not to go into a great nymph's well. There are no great nymphs, only me. Garena only knows that Wolfred calls him, and he answers. And he finds great love Wolfred and son Manfred. He knows it isn't real. But he doesn't care. He plays with them for a month, happiest in his life. When _there-_Friedrich joins them, I come. I explain about well of great nymph. But, the great nymphs are all gone, and Garena refuses to leave. And I enjoy _there-_Friedrich… Friedrich, I'm sorry. But _other-_Friedrich claims me as parent, has time for me, brings grandchildren to me. You don't. So I justify. And Garena and I both breathe life into well of five kings. Spend more time there than here."

Quercus added, "And that is how the well of the five kings became a _reality_, instead of a well of futures. And I didn't tell Shinou. Because… the other well was a better well, a _moral_ well. And I continued to help Shinou make _this_ well lead to his freedom. And to restore the nymphs, I hoped."

Murata said, "And the reason the other well was condemned was… that Wolfram wouldn't fall in love with Yuuri?"

"That's crazy!" objected Wolfram. "Of course I'd…" He trailed off as he realized it was true. Hon-Wolfram wasn't Shin-Wolfram. And Hon-Wolfram would not fall in love with Yuuri. "The heart key… had to be given in love, not just physically? And the other Wolfram wouldn't?"

"No way in hell, no matter what we tried," confirmed Quercus. "It's very difficult to intervene in the well of the five kings. That's exactly why it's such a fine well. To get Wolfram to love Yuuri, and turn Yuuri into a strong Maou, he had to be raised by Cecilie, not Wolfred. But, if Wolfred lived, Manfred died, and nothing could stop Wolfred from raising Wolfram. If Wolfred raised Wolfram, Wolfram would be loyal to Aldrich Maou, and never help Yuuri."

Wolfram flushed in pleasure at the suggestion that _he_ turned Yuuri into a good Maou. He looked to Yuuri shyly.

Yuuri looked annoyed, and kept his eye on his adversary. "So. You got your prize by torturing the people of this well. And now the nymphs wish to terminate us because we're no longer useful?"

Tariel simply answered, "Yes."

"_I_ tortured no one. Shinou did!" objected Quercus.

"Why can't we keep two wells?" asked Murata.

"Oh, that's done only in the most _extraordinary_ circumstances," said Quercus. "This, the wood nymph council sees as just a mess made while we were in captivity. The mess' creation was… more or less forgivable. But we should clean it up. Or, so the majority say."

Yuuri's eyes bored into Quercus'. "And what do _you_ say."

Quercus half-smiled sadly. "I'm one of the more forgiven. Tariel and Garena… less, and much less, forgiven. But, given a choice… I prefer the well of the five kings."

"Though this well is the one that freed you," Yuuri reminded him.

"Yes, thank you for that," acknowledged Quercus off-handedly.

"Soushu is still in the well of the five kings," observed Murata.

"That is a problem," agreed Quercus, eyeing Bertram again, "in _any_ case." The little boy hid his face in Yuuri's neck and clung tighter.

"_Some_ nymphs think we can beat Soushu," said Tariel.

Yuuri had a horrifying thought. "Is… _Soushu_ a wood nymph?"

"_Oho!"_ laughed Quercus. "That _would_ be scary, wouldn't it, _thousands_ of us like Soushu! No…"

Yuuri breathed out in relief.

But Quercus continued, "Soushu is a _water_ nymph. Ocean, in fact. _Their_ council meeting hasn't started yet."

Yuuri felt like Quercus had kicked him in the stomach, knocking all the air out of him. He stared. _And to think I was worried about restoring the more powerful trolls and ogres, and just assumed that the thousands of nymphs were gentle harmless nature spirits. And_ _**that,**__ even after little Tariel __**alone**__ forced Troll Mother and myself both to surrender. Stupid. I was so __**stupid! **_

Everyone else went silent as well. But Bertram wriggled, objecting to Yuuri's tightening grasp. In ultra-slow motion, Yuuri put the little boy down. "I'm sorry for squeezing you, Bertram. Go to Chewy now, please."

"_No! _Wimpy _UP!"_ Bertram demanded, arms in the air to be picked up again, stomping his little foot. Demonic green eyes blazed, and fire healer sparks flew from his hair.

Wolfram quickly rose and swooped Bertram into his arms. He stayed next to Yuuri to stop Bertram from making any more of a scene. "See, Wimpue's right here. Be good now, or you go inside," he murmured. Bertram grabbed a fistful of Yuuri's shirt for security, and kept a wary eye on Quercus, but otherwise let Wolfram cuddle him.

Yuuri smiled sadly and kissed Wolfram, then Bertram, on the forehead. "Thank you."

Yuuri recalled, years before, Wolfram warning him to _'get tough on Mizrat'_. Getting tough wasn't easy for Shibuya Yuuri, and he blew it that time. Getting tough was Yuuri Maou's gig. _That limitation is unacceptable today,_ Yuuri decided firmly. He took a deep breath and turned to Quercus again, pursing his mouth to _'get tough'._

Quercus smiled, and disappeared.

And immediately Garena appeared in his place. It took Yuuri a moment to recognize him. For this Garena didn't act much like their familiar half nymph misfit. He currently appeared a couple inches taller than his twin brother Friedrich, and somewhere around demon age 300, perhaps a century younger than Friedrich's recent façade. He dressed impeccably as a Lord von Bielenfeld, carrying himself with more lordly bearing than even Manfred and Aldrich. Gone were his weird braids, or even his more recent Friedrich-Wolfram hybrid get-a-date haircut. He wore his gorgeous yellow-blond hair flowing to his shoulders, his many cowlicks beautifully draped up and clamped in large gold barrettes behind his temples.

Garena pointedly ignored his relatives. He crossed his arms and fixed his eye on Yuuri. "Yuuri Maou. I bear a message for you from Aldrich, Maou of the well of the five kings. Hon Makoku seeks truce with your well. Please know that we of the five kings intend to defend ourselves to the utmost. But it has been suggested, by _your_ Aldrich, that we have been pitted against each other by a third party – the nymphs who seek to terminate your world or ours. Therefore we should refuse to fight each other, and transfer our attention to _them_. Aldrich Maou wishes to speak with you, to explore this suggestion from your vassal Lord Aldrich. Are you willing?"

"Absolutely!" agreed Yuuri. "Please convey to Aldrich Maou the gratitude of myself, my family –" Yuuri paused as Garena held up a hand to bid him stop.

"Would _now_ be acceptable, Yuuri Maou? With this audience?" Garena indicated the onlookers – almost all of them his still-ignored relatives – with a disdainful sweep of the hand.

Salix popped into existence next to Tariel, and commented. "Now would be _perfect!"_ He added to Tariel, "Mission accomplished, a tie!" Tariel grinned at his friend, and the two little nymphs boffed right shoulders. Apparently the two pals had adopted the custom of Shin Makoku's eastern mountains high-five.

Garena shot an evil green-eyed demon glare at the two true nymphs, teeth clenched. _He's furious at them,_ realised Yuuri, eyes narrowing a little, though with compassion. _Betrayed? Hurt? If the nymphs are treating the Mazoku this way, I wonder how they treat Garena, the man too nymph to pass for a demon like his brother, yet too demon to be accepted as a nymph. _

"We help," said Tariel in a small voice. He looked like he didn't really expect his son Garena to appreciate the offer. Yuuri had never seen Tariel look so uncertain before. Cold and unreachable, yes. Detached, yes. Cranky, yes, and sad, and since Salix was restored, even cheerful now and then. But never tentative and a little… _scared?_

"I show _other-_Aldrich here, Salix show Yuuri there," Tariel continued. "Easier for us than Garena."

"I don't need your help," Garena spat.

Salix shrugged. "We help anyway," he said, and blinked out.

"Salix tell Aldrich Maou," Tariel explained to Yuuri. "When Aldrich start speaking, I mimic him here."

"Ah, so, he won't actually come here?"

"No, both stay in own well, see own place. Just Salix and I project what we see to each other."

"And hopefully not lie," Garena said in a low voice, meeting Tariel's eye.

"Garena," said Manfred softly, taking advantage of a brief lull in the hostile conversation, "Aldrich suggested that there is only one you, not a… well of five kings Garena and a well of one king Garena, as there is with Friedrich. Is this true?"

"True," said Garena shortly, looking down to his right rather than at his son Manfred.

"But you seem so different today from usual, grandnymph Garena," Wolfram said, picking up on both Manfred's cue and Yuuri's look of compassion. "Yes, Bertram, that's great-grandfather Garena. Say hi."

Bertram looked intimidated. He gazed up at Garena with matching green eyes open wide, and sucked a finger. Garena looked distinctly uncomfortable, and cast his eyes down.

"Aldrich ready," announced Tariel.

And as Yuuri and Wolfram looked, Tariel suddenly transformed into _other-_Aldrich. Yuuri searched this man's face, who was and wasn't his step-father-in-law, his most powerful vassal, his friend. They looked different. The obvious was that this _other _Aldrich kept more of his Trond-inherited blue hair mingled in with his shining blond. He wore neither Bielenfeld blue and gold, nor Trondheim brown and scarlet, but rather a dove grey suit, with cutaway jacket showing flower-embroidered vest and creamy cravat. The outfit looked similar to the suit he'd surprised them all with, by wearing for his wedding with Manfred. Yuuri spared a sympathetic glance toward Manfred and Dietrich, both staring mesmerized, then returned his full attention to his opposite number.

_His face seems… softer than our Aldrich. More feminine, less deep somehow. _Yuuri's eye caught on the purple drape of Aldrich's office as Maou. _Be very careful, _he warned himself. _This man is not my friend Aldrich. He is much more powerful, and a complete unknown._

Aldrich Maou completed his narrow-eyed evaluation of Yuuri in turn, and spoke first. "Yuuri, I am overjoyed to meet you face to face. My uncle Garena von Bielenfeld has told me a great deal about you these past few days. You have quite the resume of miracles. Peace with all the human kingdoms. Emancipating Shinou and the nymphs. Resurrecting the ghosts of Trondheim, restoring the rare races. Offering equal protection under the law to all Mazoku, thoughout_ all_ of Shin Makoku! I am very impressed."

While pleasant and flattering, this wasn't particularly friendly. But that was OK. Yuuri had been king a long time now. He relaxed into the getting-to-know-you dance that preceded dealing with the issues. "Your words are too kind, Aldrich. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. All I know of you is what my husband Lord Wolfram relayed of your conversation last night, and second-hand reports of Lord Aldrich's experiences in Bielenfeld. I've only just now managed to contact the nymphs who normally advise me, and begin to gain an understanding of what we're dealing with here."

Yuuri noticed that, though he thought he'd been doing pretty well, his opposite Maou seemed to be increasingly displeased by what he was hearing. Yuuri ventured, "However, I understand I have you to thank, for initiating that action with Morgif this afternoon, and freeing us all from that… _defaults_…" Yuuri considered softer words, but settled on, "_obscenity. _On behalf of myself, my family, and my people, I thank you, Aldrich Maou."

Aldrich lips were pursed. "That was Lord Aldrich's own initiative? He was not acting on your behalf?"

"Ah, no," Yuuri admitted. "Lord Aldrich isn't here. In fact… I'm not sure even his husband knew he intended to… Aha! I, ah, don't know what exactly Aldrich_ did_. But, Garena said that Lord Aldrich suggested we speak," he finished lamely.

At Aldrich's slight roll of the eyes, it occurred to Yuuri that _his_ Aldrich was the only von Bielenfeld who_ didn't _treat him with contempt sometimes, as a complete and utter moron. But Aldrich stood out as a genius even among that gifted bunch. _He thinks I'm an idiot,_ Yuuri concluded.

"I was very interested to hear the nymph Quercus' account of how he created our two realities," Yuuri attempted to press on. "Have you already learned of this? Shall I recap?"

"Thank you, but no need," said Aldrich. "I'm sure Garena heard all of it, and will tell me when he returns. _But._ If all this is news to you, perhaps this discussion is premature…"

Yuuri found his opposite number's faintly dismissive limp-wristed gesture particularly galling. _Don't you dare dismiss me, queen Aldrich! _But Yuuri reacted well under stress. Aldrich's prissy gesture was just what he needed to catapult him into calm, cool clarity. "I disagree. I too would love the luxury of having all facts in hand before the need to act. But I'm sure you'll agree that crises are often _inconvenient _that way."

That surprised a chuckle out of Aldrich Maou. "Indeed," he agreed, von Bielenfeld black humor engaged.

Yuuri pressed on. "I'd like to believe, and hazard that you would also like to believe, that either of us could have unilaterally reversed those _defaults,_ without each other's assistance. We don't know that that's true, however." He paused to let his point sink in. "I agree with the suggestion that we attempt to join forces, rather than allow ourselves to be forced by the nymphs into an unwanted conflict between our peoples. As in any war, even the so-called _'victor'_ in this conflict would suffer great losses. We will both lose. _And we have nothing to win._

"We have already worked together successfully once, Aldrich Maou, to thwart these nymph reality mergings. I offer unilaterally to do it again, the next time these experiences begin. Will you join me?"

Aldrich considered. Yuuri was grateful to see that his stature was rising somewhat in the other's eyes. _I don't give a damn for your good opinion of me, stranger Aldrich. But if that's what it takes to solve this, your good opinion of me I shall have._

"Agreed, Yuuri Maou. At least until our next discussion, I shall use Morgif to turn aside any reality mergings. Do you have any other concrete suggestions at this time, or should we adjourn to investigate and develop proposals separately?"

Yuuri thought fast. "Several things. First, I ask that I be able to call upon Garena to relay messages between us and coordinate efforts. And of course, your messenger will always be immediately received by me." Aldrich nodded a fair-enough.

Yuuri continued, "Second, although the immediate threat is the annihilation of one of our two _'wells'_, I'm profoundly concerned that _Soushu_ has found refuge in your well. I feel this is a very dangerous situation. Unlike yourself, and most of my companions here, Murata Ken and I have had only a single cross-well experience each. We viewed a leaking majutsu dome over Shinou's temple, barely containing a Shinou-Soushu force grown nearly out of control. I would like to suggest that you open a dialog with the Yuuri and Murata Ken of your well, and perhaps bring them to Castle Bielenfeld."

Aldrich blinked. "I shall consult with my advisors about this suggestion."

Yuuri nodded acknowledgement. "Last, it appears my Lord Aldrich, and his sons Dietrich and Efram to a lesser extent, were able to enter into some form of dialog with their other halves in your well, though you and they were much stronger. I would like to learn what I can about how they did that, and promulgate that knowledge among my people, to lessen public distress. This terrorizing of my people is unacceptable to me. I'm sure you feel the same." And Yuuri realized, he _was_ sure. This _other-_Aldrich, strange as he may be, was not _that_ much of a stranger. That surety comforted him, that he was certain this strange Aldrich would do his damnedest to protect his people.

Aldrich nodded slowly. "I will be grateful to hear of any advances you make in comforting the public, and duplicate your successes as quickly as possible."

Yuuri nodded his thanks. "And do you have any requests of me, Aldrich?"

"Not at this time. I'd like to consult with Garena and others before making or requesting any further moves. If that's all, I hope to hear from you freely, and suggest we meet like this again by tomorrow evening, if not sooner as developments warrant."

"Agreed. Thank you, Aldrich Maou, for taking this step toward peace, and allowing us both to protect the safety and happiness of our peoples." And Yuuri shook hands with Tariel's projection of Aldrich, which felt exactly like the real thing. But Aldrich's large hand, turned back into Tariel's small one, as he released it.

And Garena immediately disappeared.

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings –_

"Garena…" said Aldrich slowly, in the conference room at Castle Bielenfeld, as he had been all along. His fellow kings sat arrayed before him, as well as others among his top Lords, flown into Castletown on dragons to consult about the crisis. Kings Wolfred of Bielenfeld, Julius of Wincott, Adeldan of Gratz, and Franklin of Trondheim, as well as Lords Friedrich, Wolfram, and Dietrich von Bielenfeld, had heard every word of Yuuri's as well as Aldrich's. "I want to know everything you overheard of Tariel and Quercus briefing Yuuri. But first – who the hell are Murata Ken and Soushu?"

-oOo-

_Author's note:_

When I first imagined a tense scene between Aldrich Maou and Yuuri, I kept thinking of the very gay King Herod's song from Jesus Christ Superstar:

_Yuuri, I am overjoyed to meet you face to face._

_You've been getting quite a name all around the place._

_Healing cripples, raising from the dead,_

_And now I understand you're God, at least that's what you've said…_

_Oh, what a pity, if it's all a lie!_

_Still I'm sure that you can rock the cynics if you try…_

_You're a joke, you're not Maou! You're nothing but a fraud! …_

(Yeah, OK, so it wasn't Yuuri who healed the cripples…. Just one of those accidents that tend to pile up around Yuuri, as Manfred would put it.)

Heheh. No, I don't imagine Aldrich Maou would be amused to think of Yuuri as having godlike abilities or more divine powers as Maou than Aldrich does…

-oOo-

I hope that wasn't too boring… Sorry, been super busy lately with trying to move house.

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	7. Forgotten of the Angels

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed!

**Chapter 7 – Forgotten of the Angels**

_A year and a half ago, Well of the Five Kings_

Garena was back, but somehow… not.

Wolfred didn't normally mind the way Garena came and went, with no explanation. He was like a wild thing, even now, after so long as lovers. _Manfred would have been, what, nearly 180 by now? If he'd lived… _

Far from wanting Garena caged, Wolfred lived vicariously as a wild thing with him, delighting in Garena's freedom and feral qualities. Especially in bed. There he showed no guile, no romantic idealism, no restraint. He made love with a vengeance, then usually fell asleep sated for a few minutes, then woke to cuddle. And they talked, as the nymphs talked, mind to mind. Garena had taught him. And with the wood nymph speech, came the nymph world view. Wolfred reveled in the – to him – amoral and limitless abandon of that outlook, the nonchalance in the face of nature, red in tooth and claw. Grandfather Friedrich was stunningly laissez-faire by the standards of his Aristocrat peers. But in truth, Grandfather had been demonized, forced to play the part, buy into a worldview cluttered with _duty_ and_ should's._ Not so, his twin Garena!

Which was why it was so extraordinary to see Garena pensive. They'd had sex with wild abandon, as usual. But Garena was still restless. He'd gotten up and wandered outside and back twice. Then he sat cross-legged, naked, jaw on fists, rather than holding Wolfred. And when he finally spoke, he guarded his thoughts in demon speech.

"Wolfred. What would you do, if a Manfred came back. But one you hadn't raised, didn't know, weren't sure you liked."

Wolfred frowned in puzzlement. "Uh – celebrate? To the heavens? Of course. Strange question. What's wrong, love?"

"What if you couldn't stop comparing him to… our Manfred?"

Wolfred grinned. "Foxy friend and foxy friend two? That would be so_ very_ cool!"

"I… should… feel that way, huh?" But Garena obviously didn't.

Wolfred sighed. "Hell, I dunno, Garena. Feelings come and go. The greater the stakes, the stronger the feelings. If I met a stranger Manfred today, I'd probably feel everything in heaven and hell, all jumbled up at once, overwhelming. But then, yeah… I'd _decide_ to celebrate to the max."

"What if you didn't approve of him? Didn't like him?" 

Wolfred stared at him, unable to conceive of where this conversation was coming from. He scooched over and inserted himself between Garena's crossed legs and chin, and reached up to hold his lover's jaw. "Love, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Just answer, please? It matters a lot to me."

"If Manfred, oh I dunno, raped and murdered a child – as king I'd have to ask Aldrich as Maou to handle his trial and execution. And there's no question, I would hate what he did, and not like him. But I'd still _love_ him, and stand by him as he awaited execution. Or at least, I hope I would."

"Why?" There was a note of desperation in Garena's voice. "That makes no sense."

Wolfred tweaked his nose. "It's not a _logic_ question, Garena. We chose to love him and raise him. And if we hadn't… Well, so much more the fault would be ours, not his."

Garena flinched. "I don't feel so confused about my daughter," he complained.

Wolfred knew Garena's daughter in the Krist Fens, Desiree Zarelle. She had a daughter Dionne around Manfred's age, and the two had been close friends. Wolfred had hoped Manfred would become a professor at the Bielenfeld Institute, as Dionne had. But that was after Manfred died. "Well, you didn't invest much emotionally in your daughter, hardly more than a seed strewn to the winds. Of course you feel differently about Manfred, the two of you were so close. And me as well, probably. If I died, it would hurt more than when your daughter's mother died. I hope."

_It did. It hurt worse than anything had hurt since Theophilus took Friedrich and Emeraude away, and left me alone with Tariel and the silent trees,_ thought Garena. _And losing Manfred the second time, hurt far worse. And losing Wolfred now… would be unbearable. But losing this stranger Manfred? Who gave away his own son Bertram to be adopted by another son, whom he hadn't raised either? But I gave away… I had no choice. I couldn't raise a demon as a nymph. It was better for them that I… wasn't it?_

"I can't handle demon emotions," Garena complained, tears quietly running down his cheeks.

"I love you," said Wolfred softly. "Does that help any?"

"Yes. A little."

"Now, are you going to tell me what all this is about? Have you seen some future where a strange Manfred comes back to us, or what?"

But his nymph-parent Tariel's truest child, Garena never answered. Instead, he threw his strong emotions into another round of wildly unrestrained sex. Wolfred didn't mind a bit.

But after that, Garena was away a lot more often, and longer. He seemed constantly worried, and rarely spoke to Wolfred in the nymph way. No secrets were possible in that speech.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the One King – _

While his entourage wandered inside and ate dinner, Yuuri went into _'observation mode',_ as Wolfram called it. The Maou watched, listened to all the various discussions about different aspects of what they'd just heard. When anyone addressed him directly, he steepled his fingers and shrugged, declining to converse. After supper, Gwendal handled correspondence from the ten domains and cities in Shin Makoku proper. Conrad liased with General von Dienst, and with the guards tasked with maintaining order. Wolfram interfaced with Professor Symbian, still running the Great Viral Tea Party. Murata and Friedrich seemed preoccupied by deep thoughts, sitting across the room much like Yuuri, but with meditations turned inward instead of outward. Cecilie, Annissina, and Manfred focused on the children. Yuuri's attention skipped past this last group many times, back onto the discussions of the status of the realm.

But eventually Yuuri frowned. _Manfred is focused on the children. Why is the Bielenfeld Lord – in practice, all of Shin Makoku's – the Lord of public health and welfare, focused on babysitting? Oh… Garena, his own father, wouldn't even look at Manfred. Garena's working on behalf of the well of the five kings, willing to let his own son and grandchildren be snuffed out of existence. Of course Manfred's hurting. _Yuuri's heart went out to his stepfather. But, that wasn't what was important here. He wished Manfred would snap out of it and put his ingenuity back to work.

Yuuri tried to return his attention to Gwendal, currently telling Conrad that the lame tea party actually seemed to have worked. Where the tea party had reached, public morale was surprisingly good. People were curious about their alternate selves, embraced the strange visions, compared them, made jokes about them – they were handling it well. But where the tea party hadn't yet spread, the situation was dire. From all corners of the realm, reports trickled in of… _Of frightened people attacking scapegoats, _Yuuri summarized sadly. _You done good, Manfred. You saved a lot of good people from being frightened into bad acts. A lot of innocent scapegoats owe you their lives._

While Wolfram was distracted briefing some medics, Bertram snuck away to climb onto Yuuri's lap. The toddler knew his Wimpue's moods. After a brief gaze up at Yuuri's somber face, Bertram settled back and companionably sucked his thumb. Yuuri idly toyed with a springy green-tinged blond curl.

_That's why,_ Yuuri thought. _Manfred's parents, all three, thought something was more important than him. It hurts like hell, and he can't do anything about them. But he can choose to tell his kids, that they're more important to him._ Yuuri smooched Bertram, who wriggled happily.

In sudden decision, Yuuri rose and walked over to Manfred, who had finished nightly Lord's Lesson with the boys, and was now quietly toying with the newborn twins' feet. Bertram made Yuuri put him down, so he could clamber up beside Manfred on the couch, and help play with tiny Avram.

"Lord Manfred… Father…" Yuuri said, tentatively putting a hand on Manfred's shoulder. "I want you to know, how deeply I appreciate what you did with the viral tea party. Ah, I admit, we had our doubts, but… You've done a great service to Shin Makoku, and I thank you. And… I'm very sorry, about your father. Both fathers. If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

"Thank you," Manfred mumbled, and briefly pressed Yuuri's hand on his shoulder. He didn't look up, but Yuuri could see that he was moved.

All eyes were on the king now, to see what Yuuri would do, now that he was finally talking again. Yuuri'd come to accept this occupational hazard of being king, that people assumed that his choice of actions mattered, at least until proven otherwise. Wolfram and Efram and Friedrich drifted over to join them.

"Chichiue," Wolfram said softly, "have you gotten to know Garena any better? I tried while we were in Trondheim last winter. But he's hard to read. And tonight – I didn't know the man."

Manfred shook his head microscopically, but didn't trust his voice. Efram answered instead. "Garena comes to visit us sometimes, maybe once a month. I've known him all my life, and so has my mother. Garena's her grandfather, too. When he visits, we usually have dinner with her."

Wolfram and Friedrich both squeezed Efram's shoulders, to put the brakes on the _Garena-likes-Hahaue-better-than-you_ direction Efram was inadvertantly drifting in. Friedrich offered gently, "My brother's so difficult with you. I'm sorry, Manfred."

Manfred shrugged unconvincingly. "I'm fairly judgmental with him as well," he said coldly. "I guess I know why, now. He had a better model Manfred, and I don't stack up."

"That doesn't make sense," Wolfram declared, pointedly ignoring Friedrich's hand now on _his_ shoulder in warning. "I'm sorry, Great-Uncle, but it doesn't. Tariel's attitude makes no sense either. Yuuri, if it was a choice between saving the world for Bertram and Frieda, or saving Greta and Ekaterin, and we had to choose, what would we do? Pick the two we like best? _Hell, no!_ We'd move heaven and earth to save them all, and not accept anything less! Chichiue, I'm sure you and Aldrich would do the same – leave no stone unturned, save every single one of us or die trying! Right?"

Manfred chuckled. "Damned straight."

"So they're lying. Right?" concluded Wolfram. "They couldn't possibly side with the well of the five kings, at the cost of obliterating us, or side with us to obliterate them. Great-Uncle? You know them best."

Yuuri chimed in, "Yes, Lord Friedrich. You've had some time to digest what the nymphs told us. Do you think any of the nymphs are on our side?"

Friedrich sighed. "Well, please understand that I don't know nymphs all that well. Up until nine months ago, there was only Tariel… As Wolfram was saying, I can't imagine Tariel would _choose _Hon-Friedrich over me, or any other of his descendants in this well. Though… he might choose Garena over me, on the basis that I have all my Mazoku family and friends. Garena has only Tariel, and maybe Wolfred. Garena is in a difficult position, if the nymphs won't accept him. I think Salix accepts him. I think the lesser wood nymphs look up to Tariel as their hero, and Tariel's demon children as their saviors."

That sounded promising, but Friedrich continued, "But Tariel considers himself powerless, compared to the great ones. And that whole _'move heaven and earth to save my children'_ thing, Wolfram – that's a Mazoku or human perspective. Nymphs don't have children, other than trees. And trees strew millions of seeds. Thousands take root, and with luck, a scant few make it to reproduce in turn. With only Mazoku for companions these past millenia, those attitudes have rubbed off some on Tariel. But any… _sentimentality_… about whether a particular mortal lives or dies, is essentially foreign to a nymph. To them, the moral imperative is the _'One Law'_ – survival of the fittest. Our reality is morally repugnant, because the less fit well was forced to surivive. But you know, there's a fundamental assumption beneath even the One Law – non-interference."

"They really aren't Mazoku, are they," mused Yuuri.

Friedrich snorted. "Hardly. Oh, Yuuri, by the way… When Quercus told Murata that they _'hardly ever'_ permit multiple wells to exist? I was speaking to Tariel about your birth world and that… _'fever'_ problem, and whether the Great Nymphs would choose to help your world. Tariel called it _'the well forgotten of the angels'_. Ah… I'm afraid the name rather sums up their starting position on that topic. But, apparently your birth world is another persistent well."

"Forgotten of the _'angels'_?" Gwendal repeated, in clear distaste.

"Ah… nymphs," said Friedrich, and cleared his throat in discomfort. "Angels, um, is another name for… nymphs. The lesser nymphs, anyway…"

Yuuri's initial reaction was that nymphs being angels in disguise, sounded like some of the better news he'd had today. But his companions looked horrified. Gwendal glanced around quickly to see if any non-family was in the room, and hurriedly shut the door. "Not a _word_ leaves this room!" he warned. He walked over for a low-voiced, urgent conversation with Annissina and Cecilie, who then herded the children out – Efram and Greta leading the loud protests.

"Why…?" Yuuri asked Wolfram.

Wolfram gave him a pained look. "Angels and demons are legendary arch-enemies, Yuuri, surely you know that! Damn, I hope Günter never catches wind of this!"

_Oh, yeah. I'm on the side of the demons, not the angels, _Yuuri noted wryly. _I keep forgetting about that._ "Friedrich, if the lesser nymphs are _'angels',_ then the great nymphs are…?"

"Well, gods," Friedrich admitted. "But this wasn't really my point. My point was, that you can travel between your birth world and ours. Right, Yuuri? And… take people along with you?"

"Oh!" said Yuuri. Then he frowned. "But… this business of having opposite numbers in the other well? When Wolfram and I go back and forth, we're not… _swapping_… with some alternate Wolfram and Yuuri."

Friedrich nodded, eyes widened in realization. "Good. Very good. So – the alternate self business, perhaps only figures into the wells _merging_. Or… not. Hmm. It may be, that if there exists an alternate, you'd have to swap. But at least, _you_ could control the swaps. Couldn't you?"

Yuuri shrugged a _'let's find out'_, and stepped aside a little. He reached –

-oOo-

Shin-Yuuri found himself sprawled on a dank bare stone floor in… his bedroom at Blood Pledge. He wrinkled his nose at the smell in the tumbledown castle, and then promptly unwrinkled it, as he realized the expression might be misconstrued.

Six goons in Bielenfeld livery had swords leveled at him.

"Ah," said Yuuri. "Gentlemen, I believe a change in plans is called for. Please return to Aldrich Maou and inform him that Yuuri Maou, of the well of the one king, feels it would be best to leave _here-_Yuuri, um, here."

The goons were unimpressed. "Get. Up. Now, _Pretender,"_ their leader spat out.

"Never mind," said Yuuri. "I'll go tell him myself." He reached –

-oOo-

Hon-Yuuri suddenly found himself off the floor, standing in a sumptuous room which he in no way connected to the roach-infested mouldering Blood Pledge Castle. He held perfectly still, his eyes darting around at the strange tableau, then down at his own strange form. _Why the hell am I wearing my old high school uniform? And long hair? _He recognized Gwendal, of course, though he was looking uncharacteristically well-groomed and rational today. And Murata was a sight for sore eyes, though he was dressed down in a sweater over… _tight leather pants? So I'm playing high school dress up, and Murata's playing university. OK…_

"Well, Yuuri?" said a blond in… _Oh, hell, Bielenfeld blue. _Several of these people were in Bielenfeld blue, just like the goons who'd just burst into Yuuri's bedroom and flung him on the floor, saying they were taking him to Castletown. _Hon Makoku…_

"Uh, well… what?" Yuuri cleverly replied. "You are…?"

To his horror, the blond intimately clasped his face in both hands, frantically searching his eyes. "Damn," said Wolfram. Then, apparently speaking to his companions, "It's the _other_ Yuuri, inside _my_ Yuuri!"

"What do you mean, _your_ Yuuri?" Yuuri objected. "Murata, help me out here."

"I'm afraid I'm not the Murata Ken from your world, Shibuya-kun," replied Murata.

_That would tend to explain the… baby centaur?... under his arm, _Yuuri allowed, with a sinking feeling.

"I mean," Wolfram answered, "that you are not my _husband_, Yuuri Maou, but the other Pretender Yuuri Maou of the well of the five kings. I am Lord Wolfram von Bielenfeld."

_"Husband!"_ Yuuri cried out. "But you're a – _guy!" And Wolfram… isn't he the crown prince of Bielenfeld?_

"Well, hopefully our Yuuri will be back soon," said an older near-clone of Wolfram's, sitting on the couch with some babies. He looked like he had some reservations on that score.

The biggest of the blond babies – he looked to be about two, for all Yuuri knew about babies – pushed off the couch and came over to gaze up at him. "Not Wimpy," he announced.

Yuuri leaned down with a cross look on his face. "What did you call me?"

To show off the new phrase his brother Efram taught him today, Bertram clearly said, "Bite me."

-oOo-

As he'd intended, Shin-Yuuri found himself inside the audience hall of Castle Bielenfeld. And as he'd hoped, the five kings were assembled there, with Garena and Wolfram, Dietrich and Friedrich, and others as well. Before they could react negatively, he hailed Aldrich.

"Excuse my intrusion, Aldrich Maou!" Yuuri said. He bowed slightly, then stopped somewhat short of unbowing._ I hadn't realized I was wearing Hon-Yuuri's body,_ he thought, finally straightening. _Salaryman suit, yuck. _

"Ah… I am Yuuri Maou, of the well of the one king. I was carrying out an experiment, to see if I had the power to cross between our worlds at choice, and found that I could, although… I seem to have come across into the _other-_Yuuri's body. I would ask that you hold off bringing him here. If I can cross between wells, and bring others along, it should be a fairly quick operation from Blood Pledge Castle, to release the four boxes and Shinou."

"We only have three of the boxes," said King Julius. Or at least, Yuuri assumed it was King Julius of Wincott, based on family resemblance. _Suzanna Julia's uncle, lost a year or so after Wolfred, if I remember correctly._ "We never found the fourth."

"Oh," said Yuuri with a sigh. "Well, that's alright. I know where it is on my birth world. It shouldn't take us long to go fetch it."

"So you were able to switch worlds on your own?" asked Aldrich, lips pursed. "Then I should be able to, also." He pushed back from the table and closed his eyes in concentration.

Wolfred reached out a hand to stop him. "Aldrich, I'm not so sure that's a good… idea…" His voice trailed off.

Aldrich opened his eyes, then opened them wider. He looked around the room, clearly in control of his body for the first time, here in the well of the five kings. _His body, not mine, _Aldrich realized. _Oh, hell, he still drinks._

"Aldrich Lord Bielenfeld, of the other well, I presume?" asked King Adeldan.

Aldrich nodded. His joy at seeing these dear old friends alive again, was tarnished by King Franklin of Trondheim laughing and shaking his head in disgust. "Arrogant son of a bitch, as always, Aldrich. Yuuri could do it, so you must be able to, too, right?"

"Would have been a bit brighter to see if Yuuri could _undo_ it first," King Wolfred agreed dryly. "Can you? Yuuri?"

"You're… our Yuuri?" asked Aldrich hopefully. The two friends were recognizing each other inside stranger's bodies.

"Yes, Aldrich," agreed Yuuri, licking his lip. _I hadn't considered that…_ "Ah, alright, I'll try to go back."

And he reached –

And nothing happened. Yuuri of the well of the five kings had never conquered Soushu, and never assumed Shinou's powers.

-oOo-

_Sorry for the slow update (for me) – I've been super busy preparing to move, and couldn't concentrate on this. Hopefully, at last I found an interesting next step…_

_Please review? Reviews (even after a story is complete) fuel more stories… Please?_


	8. Morgif's Master

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: We have some serious Bertram fans in the audience. :D _Thank you_ to everyone who's reviewed! Sorry this chapter got so long and slow in coming.

**Chapter 8 – Morgif's Master**

_Present day, Well of the Five Kings_

"Ah…" said Shin-Yuuri in dismay, standing amongst the five kings of Hon Makoku, in the Castle Bielenfeld conference room. _I was so stupid! Now I'm stuck here in the wrong well!_ Gulping, he said, "Aldrich, perhaps… Morgif?"

The powerful demon sword was buckled at Aldrich's hip. Morgif cracked one dubious eye open at Aldrich. Aldrich pursed his lips and cautiously touched the hilt with a fingertip.

Morgif reached out his mouth and bit him.

"_Your_ sword, perhaps, Sire," Aldrich commented dryly. He removed the scabbard from his belt, not touching the glowering hilt again. He offered Morgif out to Yuuri with a shaking hand.

Seeing the sword quaver in his friend's hand, Yuuri suddenly became cool and clear. He reached out both hands to grasp Aldrich's offering the scabbard. Yuuri's soft brown eyes met Aldrich's long elfin green eyes. "Don't worry, Aldrich," Yuuri murmured assurance. "We'll find our way home to our families."

Aldrich half-smiled and nodded. _But that isn't why my hand is shaking, _he didn't say. Yuuri actually made him feel worse, briefly, by bringing them up. But his family passed quickly out of mind again. Aldrich Maou's tumbler of whiskey on the table, a hand's reach away, grew in Aldrich's consciousness, to eclipse any thought of home or family or realm. _This body has already been drinking tonight. That scotch… I should ask my father for help. Other-Friedrich is my father, too. He's also the greatest healer, and he knows I'm an alcoholic. I just have to reach out to him instead of that bedamned glass… _

_But I could get away with it. I could drink again, without destroying my life. I could –_

Yuuri held Morgif's scabbard in his left hand – the Seiko watch-bearing, gray polyester-draped wrist looking incongruous perhaps only to himself – and with his right hand, he reached to draw Morgif.

And with a flash of lightning, Yuuri was catapulted backwards to land in a crash amidst the fireplace tools, stabbed everywhere by their demonically pointy hilt decorations. _"Ow!"_ he commented, glaring at the gargoyle knob of a hearth shovel sticking up out of his armpit. Friedrich helped him up, checking that Yuuri was unharmed.

Morgif had clattered to the conference table. He chuckled mercilessly.

"Ah, Aldrich," Yuuri addressed his companion, "I think you made out better than I did. Care to try again, a bit more assertively…" His voice trailed off as he realized that he didn't have Aldrich's attention.

King Franklin stepped over and picked up the glass of scotch Aldrich was fixated on. He cast it to shatter in the fireplace, with a flare of burning alcohol. He held his foster brother's shoulders a moment, until Aldrich gratefully fell to the huge man's chest, enfolded in an embrace.

At first Aldrich was just relieved that the whiskey's spell over him was broken. But the arms of his best friend, lost only last year, felt so good, he couldn't help sobbing silently for a few minutes. _Ancestors, Franklin, how I've missed you! And these others… it's been so long! These friends… We paid so dearly in our well… And Dietrich nearly a grown man! He looks so handsome, so happy…_

"Wolfred?" Franklin prompted softly.

King Wolfred nodded, and ordered, "Wolfram, please remove all alcohol from this room. Dietrich, please fetch Commander Abercrombie." As the youths quickly set to their tasks, Wolfred added, "It seems as though you may be our guests for some time. I'd appreciate it, if as few people as possible know that you are not who you appear, Yuuri _Pretender,_ Aldrich _Maou._ This reality-bending is disruptive enough, without the public hearing that their rulers are possessed." Wolfred's fellow kings nodded emphatically.

_That might not be as easy as it sounds,_ Yuuri thought ruefully. Aldrich rallied a bit. But then his late wife Glynda sailed into the room bearing a newt-bedecked silver tea service.

"Oh, Aldrich, you silly goose," she scolded. "Getting soused at a time like this. Here, take your hangover tea, dear."

True to von Wincott family form, Glynda was both true healer and potion master. This slightly potato-stout woman, of regal bearing, oddly didn't look as much like her blind cousin Suzanna Julia, as had her gaunt and often vacant-eyed shadow self, in the well of the one king. Hon-Glynda's large nymph-green eyes flashed with assurance and humor and intelligence.

"Yes, sorry, so silly of me," murmured Aldrich. "Thank you, Glyn. If you'll excuse us…?"

Glynda's eyes narrowed briefly, but apparently she could shrug off the strangeness she'd noticed. On her way out, she passed Dietrich, escorting in… _Axel?_

Yuuri recognized the man who stepped up to King Wolfred, after casting a quick sexy wink at Aldrich. Wolfram's first lover, Axel, was dead eight years now in the well of the one king. He died slaying the Mizrati marauders who'd kidnapped and gang-raped Wolfram, along with Axel's later lover Robair._ But that never happened here. Affable Sergeant Axel, the laundrywoman's son? An Abercrombie?_ The Abercrombies were Aristocrats, though not among the Eleven domain rulers. The Duchy of Abercrombie encompassed Shin Makoku proper east of the Donza river. Lady Kattrin von Wincott, King Julius' wife, was born an Abercrombie. Yuuri had heard Kattrin's younger brother the Duke was a real sleazebag, partly why Kattrin remained in Wincott after Julius' death. That particular Duke died without issue, to be succeeded by Kattrin and Julius' second son, before Yuuri was born.

"Axel," said Wolfred, "please inform the staff and guard that Castletown is going dry for the duration, for public safety. No alcohol is to be served anywhere – especially not to _Aldrich. _Locked and under guard." Axel bowed acquiescence and left.

"Axel is an Abercrombie?" Yuuri inquired.

"Product of rape," Wolfred agreed. "Glynda forced the Duke to acknowledge him as heir. But then the Duke collaborated with the Mizrati to save his own hide, so… Axel's still hopes to reclaim his Duchy someday." Wolfred shrugged.

Yuuri interpreted Wolfred's shrug as, _I'm willing to help out a bit, but I won't commit to carry through to victory in eastern Shin Makoku._ Yuuri found this repugnant. _Wolfram's grandfather is willing to… _dabble_… at war…_

Aldrich managed to pull himself together, with help from Glynda's potion-doped sagewort tea, and Franklin's strong support. He scowled down at Morgif on the table. Morgif protruded his lips a couple inches, to return him a defiant raspberry. Aldrich rapped him sharply on the nose with a finger. Morgif retaliated with another blast of lightning. The massive Franklin and Adeldan caught Aldrich as he was blown back, saving him Yuuri's intimate encounter with the fire pokers.

Gratz' King Adeldan sighed and resumed his seat, soon followed by the others. "Gentlemen, we still need to solve this reality-swapping thing."

Julius nodded. "Aldrich, you and _our_ Aldrich were trying to teach the rest of us to communicate with our _other-_selves at will, when Yuuri arrived. Yuuri, in our company, Aldrich, Dietrich, Friedrich, and Wolfred and Wolfram, seem to have other-worldly counterparts. Apparently you do, as well."

"Yes," agreed Yuuri. "And those counterparts are together at Blood Pledge Castle, except for Aldrich. Our Efram for Wolfred, and the others as themselves. Ah, at least… I assume _other-_me went to where I came from."

Aldrich closed his eyes and raised a _'wait'_ finger. In a moment he nodded in satisfaction. "I can still communicate with Aldrich Maou. Yuuri, he's about to dock at Blood Pledge now. I decided to sleep on the river tonight, so I could visit Manfred and the children…" He swallowed. He'd managed, with Yuuri, to reverse all the defaults, only to land up in the wrong well anyway, still unable to reach his loved ones. "Hon-Aldrich agreed to play it quiet that he isn't me, until he reaches Gwendal. Oh, and I told him that neither of us could draw Morgif."

Yuuri nodded his thanks. "It's probably best to hold off on the communication project until he reaches them, then. Though, perhaps Garena could go to our well, and let our husbands know our status?" he suggested. Garena nodded, and disappeared.

Julius prompted, "There was something about a fourth box…?"

"Aha, yes…" said Yuuri. "To free Shinou and conquer Soushu. I need to fetch the fourth box from my brother's lake on Earth, my other world, and reunite it with the other boxes. And my brother himself – he and I together form one of the keys. Conrad, Gwendal, and Wolfram are the keys to the other three boxes. So, we need to collect Conrad and Gwendal, too. Although, unless we can find some way to switch my Wolfram here… Oh, wait … By any chance, did Conrad Weller lose an arm, and then regain it, in this well?"

"I beg your pardon?" replied Julius.

Aldeldan said, "Conrad Weller advises Suberia on how to suppress Mazoku. We're not chums."

"Though, we could have him fetched," allowed Wolfred, looking to Franklin. "Dispatch a dragon, Garena to find him, Ted along to ensure delivery, Axel to secure rendezvous at the boxes?" Ted was Franklin's younger brother. In the well of the one king, Ted was Trondheim's top general.

Franklin nodded. "That would work. Though I'm not sure I see why it is that freeing Accursed Shinou from eternal damnation, is on my to-do list tonight?" He cocked a bland eyebrow at Yuuri.

"Soushu will destroy your world if we don't," said Yuuri, unsure why he was so certain of that. He frowned. _In fact, I wonder if that isn't what this is really about. The nymphs prefer this well, but it's doomed if Soushu wins. And if the Destroyer Soushu is a water nymph, then no well is safe from him._ "Then he'll destroy our world, too."

"Perhaps we could barter for doing the nymphs a service, then," suggested the half-nymph Friedrich. "Both wells' continued coexistence, in return for conquering one renegade nymph."

Garena had blinked back into the room just as Friedrich began speaking. "_Which _renegade nymph?" he demanded.

Friedrich grinned in dark amusement. "Soushu," he said dryly.

"Oh, that one."

-oOo-

Günter, self-styled Lord Krist, just couldn't let it go. He'd had it in his grasp, the restoration of Krist, Khrennikov, and eastern Shin Makoku. A bright world where his demon people had never languished under the heel of the Mizrati oppressor. Where his and Jans' delightful little Giesela still lived and prospered. He'd surrendered himself up into this heavenly world, only to have it snatched away again. He and his men had meditated over an hour, trying to contact their wimpy counterparts, to surrender again into freedom, but for nought.

"It was Yuuri Maou in Blood Pledge Castle, who meted us defeat in the jaws of victory!" cried Günter, kicking a log in their campfire, to a shower of sparks in the dark wood. An idea glimmered. "Maybe _our _Yuuri Maou could undo it…"

"The Pretender Yuuri's a useless putz," opined Jans, yawning.

But Günter nodded, with an ugly chuckle. "Yes, that he is. All the easier to force him to do our will, then, right? Men, we ride for Blood Pledge!"

-oOo-

_Present day, Well Forgotten of the Angels_

"But the vision was so _real,_ Shou-chan," insisted Shibuya Miko, chatting with her firstborn by webcam. "One moment I was handing Uma-chan his lunch, and the next I was handing out another lunch to Yuu-chan. His hair was short, he was wearing a grey salaryman suit, and he worked at the bank with your father. And in the next heartbeat, Uma-chan and I were alone again – _and he'd seen the same thing!"_

Shibuya Shouri, Maou of Earth, wasn't really listening. His mother popped up on his screen to chat most days during his lunch Zurich-time – after supper her time in Tokyo. Today was a bad day for it. Ever since his discussions with that weird nymph Quercus, when Yuuri's daughter was born in Bielenfeld, Shouri had Earth's demon tribe on yellow alert. His Internet robots surfed the web constantly for news of several types, that might be sufficient cause for a bailout to Yuuri's world, via the trees grown from Wolfram and his stepfather Aldrich's seeds. These, planted mere weeks ago, grew like something out of Jack and the Beanstalk. The _'seedling'_ by the lake in front of his tower here in Switzerland, was already fifteen feet tall. The alien evergreen was growing with all the earmarks Quercus had told him to watch out for – corkscrewing branches, forked trunk, uneven needle color. Yesterday, the needles on the lower half of one side had suddenly turned scarlet. Today the scarlet had shrivelled to black and fallen dead to the ground.

And _all_ of his Internet robots were showing red flags, warning levels of 85 percent or above. He thought he'd have to debug them, but… no. They weren't false alarms. Shouri had long felt the the bullish financial markets of the past few years were overdue for a rude awakening, and apparently that day had arrived. The Nippon and Hong Kong stock exchanges had closed a whopping 30 percent down. Despite two trading halts this morning, the European exchange was headed the same way. The NYSE would open in a couple hours, to a full-scale rout. Shouri's orders to sell on behalf of the Mazoku were already placed. _I'll be lucky to get 50 cents on the dollar. _

The immediate cause of the panic in the financial markets, seemed to be the fall of the government of Indonesia – a result Shouri considered inevitable. Venezuela, Brazil, and Argentina were also on the brink, with widescale food riots and military desertions. Three years of brutal drought in Europe had sparked massive food imports from the US and the southern hemisphere. But this year's hurricane season had tossed a record _eight _category 4 and 5 storms onto the US Gulf coast and eastern seaboard. The torrential downpours had drowned much of the US grain crop. Yesterday, the US, breadbasket to the world, announced a ban on all grain exports outside of North America. The rich of the southern hemisphere had already been selling food out from under their own people, to a desperate and wealthy Europe. Indonesia had sold crops before they were even planted, shorting its own farmers, and it wasn't the only country in that graft boat. The poor were in a murderous rampage against the food exporting rich of their own countries. Revolt was inevitable.

Shouri closed page after page of alerts on this theme. His mother Miko prattled on, lonely and bored. For of course Shouri's father was working late in the investment bank's Tokyo office, due to today's financial debacle. Shouri let her babble as he skimmed his alerts. _Nothing to hit the panic button for, yet… I think…_

And then he reached it – a robot alert with a warning level of 150 percent. The IPCC had issued an unprecedented emergency warning report. Shouri frowned, barely even aware what IPCC stood for, much less scientifically trained enough on climate change to make heads or tails of its babble about thermohaline circulation._ This Internet robot's broken,_ he thought. He went to close it, but that flashing red 150 percent stopped him. He frowned. _What would rate 150 percent? What did I put in that algorithm? Oh, wait – Quercus told me that if the oceans started going haywire… _

He started reading the item over again, determined to understand it this time. He couldn't comprehend the technical details, but now he got the gist - the Indian, Pacific, and Atlantic Oceans, all were behaving in ways unconceived by the climatologists' models. Shifts in ocean-driven winds and currents were directly responsible for the record-breaking typhoons and hurricanes, the droughts and downpours. And far from stabilizing, the ocean behaviors seemed to keep getting weirder, breaking every model.

"Shou-chan! Are you even listening to me? If you're too busy with that… _money_ stuff," Miko flipped a disparaging hand on the Mazoku financial empire her husband and son were so tiresome about, "_I'll_ come to Switzerland and contact Yuu-chan myself. I've done it before! _I_ want to know what these visions –"

"No, Kaa-san, you'll stay in Tokyo," said Shouri, suddenly cool and clear, in a way that Yuuri was far more familiar with than Shouri was. "We'll _all_ go visit Yuuri." He clicked the panic button with his mouse, to send the all-hands-evacuate to the Mazoku of Earth. "But first you're going to have a lot of company at your house. Tou-san should be home soon to help you."

For of course, one of the eight trees Quercus had told Shouri to plant, was in his parents' back yard in Tokyo. The hope was that the powerful life-maryoku bearing trees would help stabilize Earth's climate. But if not… They were the gateways by which Shouri and Yuuri could evacuate their people to Yuuri's world for safety.

Miko's eyes widened as the _'evacuate'_ window blossomed on her monitor. She nodded, grim, but met her son's eye squarely before breaking off the videoconference. "_Mama_, Shou-chan. Call me _Mama."_

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the One King_

Dietrich ran into the demoralized dining room, white as a sheet, soon after Garena left, bearing the bad news that _their_ Yuuri and Aldrich were caught in the _other _Castletown. The boy launched himself into Manfred's arms. "Chichiue Manfred!" he sobbed, "Chichiue's here, but he's the _other_ one inside!"

Manfred and Wolfram suspended their fruitless attempts to discipline Bertram – who was getting ever so much attention over the _'Bite me!'_ line that Efram taught him – and stared at the door. Efram, Greta, and Trenton warily escorted Aldrich in.

Aldrich bowed slightly to the room, and addressed Gwendal. "Lord Chancellor Walde. My counterpart Lord Aldrich asked that I keep my identity secret until I reached you. But…" He waved resignedly at Dietrich. "I believe only these children noticed. Dietrich, please believe me, I had no intention of impersonating your father in this room. We just prefer not to alarm the public."

Dietrich didn't look terribly appreciative of this. Manfred put him down gently and gave reassuring hugs to Efram and Trenton as well. Wolfram likewise hugged Greta, whose lip was quivering as she stared at Yuuri.

"You make a good mother," Aldrich said to Manfred with an awkward smile, in a voice pitched higher and softer than Manfred's Aldrich.

"You've got that backwards," returned Manfred coolly.

Aldrich abandoned the attempt to break the ice, and got down to business with Gwendal, de facto ruler of Shin Makoku with Yuuri gone. "Chancellor. In the other Castletown, they tried unsuccessfully to restore Yuuri and myself to the correct well. And found that neither Aldrich nor Yuuri there can control Morgif. We need _someone_ able to master Morgif, or we've lost the ability to defy the nymph reality-merges."

"Agreed, that's the highest priority," said Gwendal.

In quick succession, Yuuri, then Aldrich, tried to draw Morgif. Both got blasted across the room for their trouble – Yuuri into a decorative sword rack, then Aldrich's flight broken by Conrad and Gwendal catching him.

"So," said Hon-Aldrich sourly. "It seems we are forced to face this crisis with the Maous both – all three – in the wrong well. Drawing Morgif would have made this more clear cut. But Chancellor Walde, I still suggest that I take over as Maou of Shin Makoku, with you acting –"

"_No,"_ said Manfred flatly, chorused by every other Lord in the room. Manfred continued, "Lord Walde, I hereby declare myself Lord Bielenfeld Regent." He paused to glance at Wolfram, Friedrich, and little Dietrich, to invite dissent. There was none. "And I acknowledge _you,_ Gwendal, as the ruler of Shin Makoku until Yuuri is restored. Lord Wolfram, please assume responsibility for public health and welfare. Lord Friedrich, please offer your unique nymph expertise to advise Lord Gwendal. Dietrich, Trenton, Efram – we're going to bed. Aldrich… _husband_… I'll see you in bed."

"I'll make sure he gets there_ safely,_ Lord Manfred," Friedrich agreed blandly.

Aldrich Maou, infuriated at being stripped of even Shin-Aldrich's relatively low rank, said, "Now see here! The next order of business is to establish communications between Lords-here and Lords-there! Dietrich and Efram –"

"– Are going to bed. Experiment on the adults. Boys, help me carry the babies."

-oOo-

"Wolfram, a word?" murmured Conrad later, as Friedrich led Aldrich away to Manfred's room. Conrad and Cecilie had been talking low-voiced in a corner while the others worked on cross-well communications under Gwendal's dour gaze. No one bothered with their or Gwendal's sad counterparts.

Wolfram joined his mother and brother reluctantly, steps dragging. There was something about the way they were looking at him…

"Wolfie…" Cecilie began, with that universal keening note that prefaced a mother set to wheedle one into something. "You're the heart key… And you did such a magnificent job in our well, turning Yuuri into a great Maou…"

_Worse – a mother wielding flattery…_

"The heart key, that needs to be given freely. In _love,"_ clarified Conrad, eyes crinkled.

_Brother laughing at me – also a bad sign…_ Wolfram crossed his arms belligerantly.

"Just imagine," mused Cheri, "an entire world lost because your love for Yuuri wsn't strong enough."

"My love for Yuuri is strong enough for anything!" denied Wolfram.

"Shh. He's Yuuri, too," said Conrad, pointing to Wolfram's familiar beloved, who had someone_ else_ inside him today. "Can you love _him?"_

"He is _not_ my Yuuri!" They had him now. Wolfram was in complete knee-jerk reaction mode at the very _idea_ he might not love Yuuri enough. He forgot that they were setting him up.

"But he_ is_ your Yuuri, Wolfie," crooned Cecilie. "The sad, pale shadow of the Yuuri he could have been, for want of your love. Poor, poor boy." Wolfram glowered at her sideways. "Don't tell me you're not even going to _try_ to love him into greatness, Wolfie. Your father and I… Well, we'd be _very_ disappointed in you." And indeed, if anyone were up to the job of tripping someone into bed to save the world, one couldn't pick a better tramp for the job than Cecilie von Spitzweg or Manfred von Bielenfeld.

"_Worlds_ hang in the balance, little brother," hammered home Conrad. "_Worlds. _To lose your _children,_ your _family,_ your _Yuuri,_ because you _closed your heart."_ He shook his head in mock dismay.

"_Damn you!"_ hissed Wolfram.

Conrad and his mother put their arms around each other, and looked at him beseechingly. Well, actually, warm hazel and vivid green demon eyes threw down a gauntlet of challenge.

"_Damn you!"_ repeated Wolfram. _"Alright!_ I'll see what I can do. _Weller._ Since you're so _keenly_ interested, perhaps _you_ could bring Yuuri to me in about 10 minutes." And summoning what scraps of dignity he could muster, Wolfram stalked off to bed.

"That's my baby," purred Cecilie. "You're right, Conrad. He is _so_ easy!"

"Ah!" agreed Conrad with a deep breath and huge grin. "I think I'll go tell Gwendal that we just pimped his little brother, shall I?"

Cecilie chuckled, demon green eyes glowing. "Yes, he'll enjoy that."

-oOo-

Friedrich escorted Aldrich to Manfred's bedroom. After briefing Manfred on their mixed results communicating with the other side, and kissing his grandson Avram, he toook his leave with a murmured, "Good night, son." Aldrich gulped as the door closed, leaving him alone with… his late cousin.

The room was ablaze with candles, a lively fire on the hearth. Manfred sat against the bed's headboard, stripped to his g-string, cuddling his newborn son Avram skin-to-skin for his bottle. He'd picked up this trick from Yuuri and Wolfram, who felt it gave Bertram the nurturing experience of breast-feeding. Manfred's own Aldrich had agreed enthusiastically on pediatric grounds – aside from it being sexy as hell. This_ other-_Aldrich looked disconcerted.

_Good._ "You're overdressed, husband," Manfred said. "Moxie will want her bottle in a minute. Won't she, Foxy. Yes, your sister is quite pushy about her midnight bottle."

Aldrich gulped again, but started undressing. The room _was_ awfully warm with the fires dancing everywhere. Even Manfred had a sheen of sweat, his compact but sculpted chest and abs and beautiful legs, all gleaming in the shifting golden light. Aldrich started sweating, too, and not entirely from the warmth. "I could use a drink."

"If you have a drink in that body, you'll kill him. That's why Friedrich's been watching you like a hawk. I'm sure he stationed guards outside the door. Please don't embarrass yourself by trying to sneak out for a nightcap when I fall asleep. Hurry up now and strip for Moxie."

Aldrich finished stripping down to his g-string and looked dolefully about the small room. _No couch, and Manfred got the bed. _His eyes skittered away from that alluring body.

But Manfred said, "So, climb in, and meet your youngest son." He kept his seat in the middle of the bed, so that climbing in, Aldrich had no choice but to touch him, bare shoulder to bare sweaty shoulder, thigh to thigh, with a touch like an electric jolt. Manfred gave him a crooked green-eyed demon grin and passed over Avram and the bottle. "Our son, Avram – Foxy."

Aldrich perforce took the baby. Manfred adjusted his hold until the baby was slurping right at Aldrich's nipple. It felt sexy as hell. And Manfred… _Manfred was always sexy as hell._ He cleared his throat, and attempted, "_'Foxy'_, just like Wolfred called you, _'foxy friend'_. Are all your sons _'foxy'_?"

"Huh. I'd forgotten that… Nope. Wolfram is _'pretty vixen'_, Efram's the _'fire pixie'_, Bertram is _'chu trickster'_. But Ald-_rick_ and Diet-_rick_ felt that this _'ick'_ business had gone far enough. And _'Moxie'_ really fits for Margritte. As for Avram… Well, so far he's keeping his personality a secret, aren't you, Foxy? Yes, you're a sly one." Manfred draped himself on Aldrich's shoulder, breathing on his neck, toying with Avram's tiny foot, and incidentally Aldrich's other nipple. "Maybe you'll be like me, a quiet von Bielenfeld, hm?"

Aldrich tried valiantly to ignore the double nipple assault. "Manfred… How the hell did I – _he!_ – come to marry his first cousin? You're – damn, you're like my baby brother!" He didn't move away from Manfred's touch, though. His eyes were fixed on adorable little Avram, but his consciousness riveted on the hot feel of Manfred draped all along his right side.

"Don't even_ try_ to pretend you didn't want to," said Manfred lightly. "You just never got the chance before I died. But I bet you started avoiding me by age 60, just the same as in this well, because you were attracted to me and fighting it. It took us nearly all of Wolfram's life to get past that and marry each other. I'm not about to backtrack now." He rose onto his knees, so that Aldrich was facing his belly, and leaned in to kiss the top of Aldrich's head, before alighting from the bed. "C'mon, Moxie, time for your bottle. I want to go to bed, too."

Aldrich swallowed again, heart hammering. "I'm not your husband," he whispered.

Manfred came back with Margritte and her bottle. "Let's swap babies. C'mon, Foxy, you're falling asleep. Finish up, now." He settled in, leaning arm and leg against Aldrich again.

Aldrich studied the tiny girl, so beautiful, comparing her to his distant memories of his daughter Tatiana. Memories of the shining, gorgeous youth Manfred, holding the newborn Tatiana. Memories of the feral Wolfred teasing him mercilessly about being turned on by his kid… _Yeah, I was attracted to him. Bigtime._ Manfred burped Avram and changed him, and swaddled him back into his basket to sleep. Aldrich watched, rapt, and got caught staring as Manfred returned to bed. His cheeks flushed. "You're not much like him. Our Manfred."

"I am exactly him. And you _are_ my husband." Manfred sat facing Aldrich, one knee crooked around Aldrich's side, the other leg across Aldrich's lap. And he caressed first the nursing baby, then his beloved's side and abs.

Aldrich whispered, "Why are you doing this?"

"Partly to tell my Aldrich that it's OK. He's with Glynda tonight, isn't he? Tell him it's OK with me, will you, please? Like all our dreams, the way we wished it could have been, come true. It's OK to drink from that cup. And I'm following his lead, my liege lord, my love."

Aldrich tentatively touched Manfred's soft unruly cowlicks of sunshine yellow hair, then gradually gave in, and caressed the classic beauty of the jawline, the compact muscled shoulder. "What lead is that?"

"To love you as ourselves. That you will love us as yourselves. Whatever happens, Aldrich. I've told you all along. Every time I find some strange new aspect of you, it's another part for me to love. No different this time." He scooched closer and stroked Aldrich's jaw, then lips. Then he pushed a thumb into his mouth, pressing down on his back teeth the way that always made Aldrich melt. "_That_ little quirk, for instance. I love that quirk of yours."

And still pressing Aldrich's teeth, with his other hand, Manfred gave Aldrich his true healing fire, in love, sharing the strength and passion of his love for him. "Finish feeding the baby. Then make love to me, the way you did when we made this child."

And soon both babies were back in their basket. Aldrich Maou gave himself over, body and soul, to a dream, a fantasy come true. Manfred in turn made love in desperate earnest, to the body of his husband, and through Aldrich Maou, hopefully to reach the heart of his true Aldrich beyond.

-oOo-

Wolfram, too, awaited his changeling husband in a g-string, newborn at his breast. His and Yuuri's daughter Ekaterin was born the same day as Manfred and Aldrich's twins, her birth tree tended by Aldrich alongside the twins'. This sweetly beautiful custom of bottle-feeding a baby in the buff, came from Yuuri's world, and should help him feel at home. Or so Wolfram recalled. Wolfram, too, had the room half ablaze, on the theory that being a little over-warm might help get past Hon-Yuuri's sexual shyness. Though in truth, firebugs needed little excuse to set things ablaze. Leaping flames cheered them up, and the more dangerous, the better.

_Yuuri back when we met, before he toughened up, _Wolfram mused, strolling down memory lane while he waited. _Such a lovable little idiot wimp, scared of his own shadow. Not to mention how terrified he was of me in bed!_ Wolfram chuckled darkly. _Hm. This might not be so bad… Taking his virginity was a lot of fun, actually. Though I might not get that far tonight._ He had no doubt that though the same age as Shin-Yuuri, and appearing older than Wolfram by now, Hon-Yuuri was _definitely_ a virgin.

Among the people practicing with their _other-_selves tonight, Shin-Wolfram and Hon-Wolfram had the hardest time modulating their contact. They caromed back and forth like billiard balls, sometimes mentally shrieking at each other, then as though they clung to each other for support amongst waves of vertigo. Even after quitting for the night, they still had that being-watched feeling. Wolfram gulped as he caught a brief mental image of nuzzling the fair Dietrich's ear.

_Prince Wolfram?_ Shin-Wolfram attempted in his mind. _I'm going to try to build bridges with Hon-Yuuri tonight. If you… want to know,_ he finished lamely, wondering if he'd really intended to suggest his alter ego play the voyeur.

_Dietrich is __**way**__ hotter,_ replied Hon-Wolfram. _Have fun with the idiot wimp. __**Sucker.**_

Wolfram started to form an angry retort. But just then Conrad arrived with Yuuri. He deposited the Pretender inside the door, and closed it behind him quickly, before Yuuri could bolt.

Yuuri stood there gaping, mouth forming those adorable fish-breathing _O's _that Wolfram remembered so fondly from Yuuri's youth.

"So? Get undressed, Yuuri, and help feed the baby."

"Ah – what?"

"Our daughter? Ekaterin? We feed her as you do on your homeworld," Wolfram said encouragingly. "Bare-breasted."

"Ah – _what?"_

_"I said__** 'Strip'!**__**Wimp!"**_ Wolfram barked at him, in practiced military command voice. Yuuri obeyed, shaking. The guards at the door, plus the number of goons pointing swords at him today, probably helped win his cooperation. Wolfram began to feel a little guilty. _Gently, now. I'm trying to seduce a virgin, not bully him. Shower him with kindness and sex appeal,_ he admonished himself.

Yuuri, stripped to those ghastly otherwordly underpants, stepped tenatively to the bed. "I, ah, have never, um…"

Wolfram smiled at him sideways, attempting both kindness and allure, and patted the bed next to himself for Yuuri to sit. He'd thoughtfully allowed about four inches more space than the width of Yuuri's ass. Which gave Yuuri a choice between full body contact, or falling off the bed.

Yuuri swallowed and sat, sliding shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, into this ruthless and near-naked blond who called himself his husband. Wolfram smiled in a way that Yuuri took as an outright challenge to prove himself. "Ah, alright then. How do I, um…"

Wolfram shifted to position tiny Ekaterin to slurp her bottle right on Yuuri's nipple. Then he slid his hands along Yuuri's arms to position them around the baby correctly, just the way Shin-Yuuri always held Ekaterin. Then he proceeded to nuzzle and kiss the newborn slowly and tenderly, head, belly and tiny feet, his own blond hair and hot breath tickling Yuuri's chest. Since that didn't seem to elicit any response in kind, Wolfram pulled back to give Yuuri some space. "Isn't she beautiful, Yuuri? She looks so much like you," he said in his breathiest, low bedroom voice. And he watched.

As Wolfram had hoped, once given a little space, Yuuri turned his attention to the mesmerizing tiny digits and features of the pretty baby. _Eurasian. _He stole a quick glance at Wolfram under his lashes. _She'll be a very pretty Eurasian, with half his looks. No – he can't mean she's biologically our… No, I have heard some of the von Bielenfeld men have had children… somehow. And she does look like both of us._ To Wolfram, the infant still looked only like Yuuri. But of course, to him all Japanese looked alike. He wasn't familiar enough with them to see the differences. But Yuuri could._ Oh, wouldn't Mama love Ekaterin! Her first grandchild, a girl! _He snorted. _She could dress her up in all the dresses she bought for me… No, this is silly. She's not my child. She's… _

But now that he was holding her, feeling her slight, fragile weight and warmth in his arms, skin to skin – Yuuri didn't _want_ to deny that Ekaterin was his child. _I'm not ready for… No. Obviously I was ready, if only things were a little different. If this man…?_

Hon-Yuuri reached mind and heart across the infinitude of possibility, to contact Shin-Yuuri. _But I'm not gay. _We're_ not gay,_ he said. _How did you come to love this man?_

Shin-Yuuri was alone in the dark in his room in Castletown. He hugged his knees in a window seat, gazing out over the moonlit winter box-maze at the center of Aldrich's garden – in both realities._ It's not like that, _he replied._ Wolfram became my fiancé by accident. He was a pain in the ass, always hysterical over my imagined unfaithfulness, goading me into being brave and daring. He was always with me, to prevent love rivals. And he was the closest thing to a friend my age among these long-lived Mazoku. Something happened, and I realized how much he meant to me. _Yuuri briefly related how the Mizrati marauders captured and gang-raped Wolfram, and his rough road back to wellness. _When I thought I'd lost him, I'd have done anything to get him back. Against my will, while I wasn't looking, I fell in love._

_But you're – we're – not gay!_ objected Hon-Yuuri. Ekaterin finished her bottle and Wolfram started explaining and demonstrating the baby-burping process. Yuuri sort of listened to that with his body, his mind unwilling to interrupt Shin-Yuuri.

_Not gay… Yeah, I thought that,_ Shin-Yuuri continued. _But… We're Japanese, aren't we? 'The nail that sticks out gets hammered in.' And our father? The ultimate international bland chameleon. In truth, I think aside from my baseball outlet, I was just… whatever other people wanted me to be. You, too – I remember your memories. But Wolfram, he wanted me to be the greatest I could be, and believed in me with all his heart. I rose to meet his expectations and… fell in love with him for being so demanding. _Hon-Yuuri chuckled. _He's still demanding, irrational, unreasonable… beautiful, loyal. Yuuri… let him show you his fire, his healing touch. Have the guts, just this once. And you'll experience a pure heart, passionate and loyal and brave, given entirely to you. Well, us. Me._

Wolfram took the baby to change her and tuck her into her basket for the night, murmuring sweet nothings to her. Hon-Yuuri swallowed hard. _His body is… beautiful._ He hadn't realized he'd put that across to Shin-Yuuri until he felt his pang in return, the aching loneliness of wanting to be with Shin-Wolfram, treasuring that gorgeous blond body, that miraculous tiny treeborn baby they'd created together in love. _Why don't you mind?_ he asked. _That I… touch… your husband like that? That he touch me like that?_

_You're me,_ Shin-Yuuri replied. _Loving you, he is loving me. And the entire reason these wells split, was because Hon-Wolfram wouldn't love you. Shin-Wolfram is trying to correct that, to save the world. And out of love for you, too, by the time he's done. Trust him, Yuuri. He's insane, they all are. But it's a glorious insanity. I caught it from them and never, ever regretted it! I'm proud of who I've becom. I treasure my life, my family, my friends there. Can you say the same? Or are you just… sleepwalking?_

It was a rhetorical question. Shin-Yuuri remembered all of Hon-Yuuri's past. And his alternate self was indeed just going through the motions, chameleon junior at the bank, lacking his father's sincere love for his work beneath his grey polyester camouflage. At that moment, Shin-Yuuri wasn't really thinking about multiple realities colliding or saving worlds. He was focused on Hon-Yuuri, and his compassion for a version of himself who'd never really lived. If Shin-Wolfram wanted to love that sad little shadow-Yuuri alive, then… Shin-Yuuri was all for it.

"I'm a good man with a spreadsheet," Hon-Yuuri countered lamely, not realizing he'd said it aloud. Wolfram shot him an odd look from his place by Ekaterin's basket.

_Yes,_ said Shin-Yuuri, feeling a pang of grief for… himself. _I find that unutterably sad. Ah – excuse me, I need to go. There's a knock at the door._

Wolfram returned to the bed. He unfolded a large cloth, and tossed one side up in the air, to float down over Yuuri and the mattress. "Ah… what are you doing?"

Wolfram lay down on his side, facing Hon-Yuuri, a hand suggestively on his abdomen above his little black g-string, his head tipped back a little. "Spreading a sheet," Wolfram replied. "So show me, Yuuri. How you're a good man with a _spread sheet."_

"Aha! Ah – that's, um," said Yuuri. "A spreadsheet is, oy. You don't have computers here …"

Wolfram laughed. "One of those stupid computer dating sims your brother Shouri plays with? Shouri _so_ needs to log off and get a life. You'd think with Mama vid-camming him every day, she'd pester him into it, but no… Well, Mama Miko could use a life as well. It's a shame that her house-wife fencing league broke up. Now she's back to empty nest angst again. Or, didn't that happen in your reality?"

Yuuri looked at him in surprise. The last thing he'd expected just now was Wolfram being… homey. "Ah, that, yes. The fencing league broke up just before I graduated in April, and aha! yes, she pesters Shouri every night after supper."

"Well, I guess your other world didn't fall to pieces without you there," quipped Wolfram. "Pity about the sheet, though. I was curious. That's a new one – nothing about sheets in that sex manual you picked up for us at MegaBunny in Akihabara." _All this contact with Hon-Wolfram is rubbing off on me,_ he thought ruefully.

_So, improvise, _Hon-Wolfram suggested. And Shin-Wolfram caught a mental flash of Hon-Wolfram tossing a sheet to flutter over Yuuri's head, in a lonely dark bedroom at Castle Bielenfeld. He pinned Yuuri's arms in the sheet and tickled him. Shin-Wolfram's eyes narrowed, twinges of jealous outrage threatening to break out.

"Wolfram…" Hon-Yuuri said, "your Yuuri suggested… I don't know what he meant. But… could you show me, the feeling of your fire? Please?"

Surprised, Wolfram looked at him for a moment, then waved a hand to bring down the lights to a low guttering intimacy. "I can do better than that. How about I show you how Yuuri and I made Ekaterin, hm?" And Wolfram set out to do just that.

It was by far the strangest love-making any of them had ever experienced. Well, Hon-Yuuri had never gotten beyond half-hearted groping with a vapid secretary. The others were expert indeed. But they _shared_ this love-making, Shin-Yuuri and Hon-Yuuri feeling each other's experience, and Shin-Wolfram and Hon-Wolfram the same, four men making love on the strength of the true love of two of them. The separated Shin-lovers reached across infinity for each other, and gave their whole hearts to their lovers' alter egos as well.

For Hon-Yuuri and Hon-Wolfram this love was… not theirs. But they were in awe of what their counterparts had, their other selves. Hon-Yuuri envied Shin-Yuuri his life, his bravery.

But for Hon-Wolfram, it didn't really change anything. Shin-Wolfram lovingly served a great man, making him great. Hon-Wolfram supposed that a great lover might make something comparable out of Hon-Yuuri. But in Hon Makoku, Prince Wolfram was the great man, and Dietrich the great love who supported him.

-oOo-

"How are you, Manfred?" Cecilie asked kindly, catching his arm at the door to the dining room, before he could join the dining room throng the next morning. Aldrich had already been there for 20 minutes, looking… smug and fresh as a daisy. Cecilie suspected her ex-husband had spent this brief break crying himself out after his night's work. _You use yourself so harshly, darling._

Manfred cracked a dark green-eyed demon half-smile, half-leer at her. "I'll do. _However. _Either of my middle-born demon spawn says _'Bite me'_, and he'll get the thrashing of his life." He squeezed her hand in brief thanks as Efram sauntered up to them. "Speak of the devil."

Canny Efram gave his best pixie smile and courtier's bow, offering a chipper, "Good morning, Chichiue my liege!" Well, actually, his best courtier's bow was clumsy, the boy having been legitimated only a few years ago, and he was hardly a natural at elegance. But he gave it a shot. Then he made a beeline for the far corner of the room, inventing urgent business with Greta.

Manfred snorted. "Clever kid. Good morning, Bertram. May I have a morning kiss?"

"Bite me," replied the toddler cordially, and giggled.

_"Don't,_ Manfred," Cecilie implored.

Manfred glowered at the tot. "Where's your Chew-toy?" he inquired.

"Sleepin."

"I see. Bertram, what you just said, that Efram taught you? That's very bad. If you say it again, I'll have to discipline you. Do you understand?"

"Bite me?"

Cecilie dug her nails into his arm and whispered urgently, "He's just asking what you meant, Manfred. We really should leave this to Wolfie."

Though frowning dangerously, Manfred conceded she was probably right. "Yes, Bertram – _that._ I never want you to say _that_ again. I know Efram taught you to say _that_, but he was very wrong. _That_ is bad. Very bad."

Despite having six biological children, plus stepson and foster son, Manfred had little experience raising small children. With Wolfram and Efram, their mothers mostly coddled them tight, until they started mouthing off in adolescence. _Then_ their mothers foisted the spoiled darlings off on him to discipline. Which was fine with him. One could_ reason_ with an adolescent. Well, if one was skilled at emotional reasoning, anyway, which Manfred was.

Naturally enough, all that _'that'_ business flew right over little Bertram's head. He replied, "Bite me." And giggled.

"That's enough," said Manfred, and grabbed the toddler. He spun him around and thwacked his behind. "Now apologize, chu trickster!"

"_OW! Bite me!"_ yelled Bertram, fiery sparks beginning in his hair.

Manfred matched his sparks and doubled them, and thwacked his behind again. "Apologize!"

"_**BITE. ME!"**_ Bertram screamed, and tried to bite Manfred's hand.

Cheri commented mildly, "It's so hard to salvage your _dignity_ in this situation, Manfred. I'm afraid you've painted yourself into a corner."

Manfred turned to glare at her, and Bertram broke free.

"Wimpy save me!" he yelled, and ran to the table, where Morgif still lay masterless from the night before. Bertram jumped onto a chair, and grabbed Morgif's nose with his pudgy little hand. There was a flash of blinding light.

And Bertram was gone.

-oOo-

_Please review? I gets discouraged when I don't get reviews. T.T_


	9. The Evacuation of Earth

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

**Chapter 9 – The Evacuation of Earth**

_Present day, Well of the Five Kings_

The inner circle of the five kings, plus Yuuri, were having a working breakfast back in the Castle Bielenfeld conference room. Morgif hummed irritatingly at the foot of the great table. So they were all assembled when a great flash of light burst forth.

Bertram giggled, and climbed off the table, down onto a chair. Then the toddler noticed all the strangers at the table staring at him, and got intimidated. He sucked a finger and looked about to cry.

"Chu trickster!" cried Aldrich warmly, far quicker off the mark than Yuuri. He leapt from his seat, to sweep Bertram up in his arms with a broad grin. "Oh, where's my hug and kiss, son?"

_"Odd-Chewy!"_ squealed Bertram, smiling and smooching Aldrich. "Play Foxy?" He looked around for the twins.

"No, sorry, trickster! Foxy and Moxie are at _your_ house. We're at _my_ house now. But I'll play with you! No, wait! I have a better idea! How about _you_ take us back to _your _house, to play with Wolfram-Chewy!"

"No," said Bertram.

"_'Foxy'_?" echoed Wolfred, hanging bemused on his buddy King Julius' shoulder. "_Al_drich, sweetie-pie, _pray_ introduce! It's so un_like_ you to be so gauche! Who's your little friend?"

"Ah…" said Yuuri, still in shock.

"This is Manfred's son Bertram, by Efram's mother Dionne's sister Dierdra. They let Wolfram adopt him as his heir. And of course Yuuri married Wolfram, so… And Bertram's cross-fostered with Manfred and my son Avram, right, trickster? You're foster brothers with Foxy!" Aldrich pointed at Wolfred. "That's your grandfather Wolfred, Bertram!"

"Come again?" replied Wolfred. He and the other kings leaned to hear the disapproving Garena quietly rehash this tangled branch of family tree.

Yuuri hesitantly approached Bertram, in Aldrich's arms. When he agreed to this Bielenfeld-style cross-fostering of Bertram and Avram, he hadn't bargained for quite how seriously the Bielenfelds took such things. And Bielenfelds, from long experience, didn't put any stock whatsoever in marriage to outsiders. Yuuri was determined that all this wouldn't end up making Aldrich and Manfred more Bertram's fathers than Yuuri himself. That Wolfram was father-prime, of course, was unassailable. Yuuri hadn't expected to play fourth fiddle, though.

"Aha, Bertram, where's your kiss for Wimpue?" Yuuri leaned in for a kiss.

"Did he just call himself _'Wimpue'_ ?" King Adeldan laughed.

"You do have the most _colorful_ family tree, Wolfred," commented Wolfred's own cradle buddy, the spacey intellectual King Julius.

"_Not_ the Wimpy!" declared Bertram, and hid in Aldrich's neck, ducking Yuuri.

Aldrich unhooked the toddler, and said encouragingly, "Yes, trickster, it _is_ Wimpue. He looks funny today, doesn't he? He got a bad haircut, and…" Aldrich cast a disparaging eye down Yuuri's grimy off-the-rack polyester salaryman suit. "Wimpue needs to talk to our valet Thomas, doesn't he? Yes, Wimpue's in dire need of a good tailor. His clothes aren't very pretty."

Yuuri glared at him, but softened his expression penitently when Bertram shrunk away from the scary face. "Aha, yes, Bertram, it's me. Wimpue…"

Bertram lay his head on Aldrich's chest and sucked a finger, huge blue-green eyes wide and blank.

"I really liked Aldrich-Chichiue's idea, Bertram," Yuuri kept trying. "Don't you want to go back to Chichiue?"

"No."

"Ah, why not?" Bertram _always_ wanted Wolfram.

"Bite me," replied Bertram sadly.

"_What_ did you –" Yuuri blurted out.

Aldrich quickly turned Bertram away from him and cut in, "Did Efram teach you to say that, trickster? I bet Efram got in a lot of trouble, huh!"

Bertram nodded emphatically. "Man-chu dippin me! Ow! _Man-chu BAD BOY!"_

"Mm," sympathized Aldrich.

"Aldrich, how do you _understand_ this gibberish?" Yuuri complained.

"Oh, Aldrich's just _amazing_ with small children and green recruits," said Wolfred.

"Yes, you've mentioned that," quelled Friedrich. "Aldrich, do I understand that Manfred annoyed Bertram, so Bertram… Came here?"

"Yes…" said Aldrich. "_I_ think Wimpue and trickster and me should _all_ go back home to Bertram's house, and straighten this out! Right, trickster? Let's go see Chichiue Wolfram and get this fixed!"

"No. Chewy dippin me. _BERTUM GOOD BOY!"_

"Maybe not always a good boy," observed Yuuri sourly.

"Perhaps we could keep our eye on the ball. Sire," suggested Aldrich.

"But this doesn't make sense," objected Hon-Wolfram. "Everybody else swapped with an alternate version of themselves. Why is this toddler any different? And why can he use Morgif when the Maous can't?"

Aldrich pursed his lips and cuddled Bertram. Yuuri said, "Ah… that's a very good point, Wolfram. But… Would it be possible for you to excuse us for a moment? There's something I need to tell the kings, that my Wolfram doesn't want to know. It's… important to him. Not to know?" Yuuri looked at him confidentially, winningly.

Yesterday's Hon-Wolfram would have told him to shove it. Today's Wolfram recognized Yuuri's look as giddy lovestruck tomfoolery. He rolled his eyes, and left.

"It wasn't my imagination, then," said Friedrich, as the door closed. "Shinou?" Yuuri sighed and nodded confirmation. "I've been relaying all this to _other-_Friedrich, by the way, so they know on the other side. Their Wolfram isn't in the room at the moment, for what it's worth." Friedrich had proven even more adept than Aldrich at communicating with the other side. Wolfred and Dietrich were much put out last night that they weren't allowed to play along, with Efram and _other-_Dietrich.

Yuuri's eyes narrowed in sudden awful realization. "Ah… if our Shinou is here as Bertram… It's possible that…"

"An out of control Shinou just flipped into our well," finished Aldrich.

"Ah, Bertram," said Yuuri, leaning down to the child in Aldrich's arms. "Could we please go home to Chichiue Wolfram now? It's very important."

"No. Go Shouji-chan. Down."

Aldrich shook his head in uncomprehension. Yuuri didn't get it either. So Aldrich let Bertram down, and leaned back on the table.

Bertram scampered back up the chair, back onto the table. Aldrich quickly grabbed Morgif's scabbard, Yuuri the little boy. And a bright light flashed as Bertram mashed his little hand onto Morgif's nose again.

And all three of them vanished.

After a long silence, Friedrich reported, "They didn't go back to where he came from." The kings looked at each other in dismay and crogglement.

Then Garena disappeared as well.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well Forgotten of the Angels_

Yuuri and Aldrich found themselves on a small jetty on a mountain lake. Yuuri tucked the wriggling Bertram under his arm like a football, as he always did when Bertram was giving him grief. The toddler giggled.

Yuuri turned to face the familiar glass tower of – "_Sho_uri _Oji-chan!"_ he murmured, finally understanding Bertram's _'Go Shouji-chan'. _"Aldrich, this is my brother's place, on Earth. Why…" _Why are we here? And why are so many other people here?_ Hundreds were milling around, clumps of small baggage lying everywhere in the alpine November snow, with a steady stream of traffic in and out of the tower. The throng had spotted them, and Shouri was headed their way.

Aldrich slowly turned, taking in the scenery. He'd never been to Earth before. "Pretty. Your brother's place looks like Gratzberg." He frowned at the pitch-fork trunked, corkscrewing branched, scarlet-mauve-black-and-dark-green piebald… _conifer?_... growing too close to the lake. "That's… a very strange tree. It's ill, isn't it?"

Yuuri shot the plant healer a pained glance, missing the point. "I don't know much about trees, Aldrich. Sorry." Anyway, Shouri was upon them.

"Yuu-chan! Thank God you're back!" cried a furious Shouri. "The angels returned, the ones who planted the strange trees. We need to evacuate Earth into your other world, ASAP!" He paused, staring in consternation at the green-blond toddler in Yuuri's arms, and the movie-star hunk blue-blond man beside him, clutching a sword, with a corny Halloween-skull hilt. "Who're they?"

"Ah…" said Yuuri in dismay. _Maybe this is the other-me's brother Shouri… Though what the 'angels' are about, I don't have a clue. _Aldrich looked on quizzically, not understanding a word of their Japanese.

Suddenly Garena appeared between the two brothers, facing Shouri. He sported his familiar old many-braided hairstyle, but wore billowing white, and added a few inches to his height. He glowed an all-over fire healer halo. He held up his hands in a _'wait'_ gesture, and addressed Shouri. "Not yet, great Maou! I shall return for you soon! Do you have the box? That cannot be left behind!"

"Yes, yes, we have the box. But –"

Garena spun to face Yuuri's direction. He took Morgif away from Aldrich, pressing a couple small objects into his hand instead. He set an envelope marked in chunky Trond glyphs down on the deck of the dock, but stopped Aldrich from picking it up to look. "Sword stays here. Hold onto the baby." He placed Aldrich's hand on Bertram, and bent down to address the toddler under Yuuri's arm. "Wrong Shouji-chan, Bertram. Go to _far_ Shouji-chan!" Then he extended Morgif's head so Bertram could reach it.

And Bertram grabbed Morgif's nose.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the One King_

Cecilie and Manfred were still at it hammer and tongs in the dining room at Blood Pledge Castle. The family having had some experience with these two fighting, everyone else stayed out of it. Though Friedrich did reiterate his opinion of _'match made in __**hell**__'_ rather loudly once or twice. Fortunately, Wolfram still wasn't up. No one was eager to inform him that his adored Bertram had gone missing. Well, Cecilie mentioned several times her intention to go tell Wolfram how it was _all Manfred's fault!_ But it was just a talking point.

Then, in a bright flash of light, Hon-Yuuri, Hon-Aldrich, and Morgif disappeared from the dining room.

And in their place, Garena appeared, sporting his latest well-of-the-five-kings Bielenfeld Blues and beautiful flowing hair. "Emergency change of plans," he said. Despite this _'emergency'_, he looked cool and detached as usual. "Yuuri, Aldrich, and Bertram are visiting Yuuri's brother Shouri. I'm not sure when they'll be back."

And he vanished before anyone could ask a question. Not that a nymph would have answered anyway.

-oOo-

_Present day, Wells Forgotten of the Angels, and of the One King_

Shin-Yuuri and Shin-Aldrich found themselves – exactly where they started. They stood on the same lake dock at the foot of Shouri's glass tower, just as they'd been before Bertram grabbed Morgif's nose. Yuuri still had Bertram tucked into his elbow. The throng of people appeared the same – most in need of better tailors, in Aldrich's estimation. But Garena and Shouri were no longer beside them. Morgif clattered to the dock. As Yuuri bent to pick it up, his long hair swung into his face.

It was only then that it registered on both of them, "We have our own bodies back!" The men grinned and exchanged a hug. Yuuri flipped Bertram up in front of him, and cried, "Yay, Bertram! Thank you, thank you!"

"Wimpy!" Bertram cried in delight, and smooched him. Enough of that. "Down." Yuuri snorted amusement and set him down.

Shouri reached the foot of the dock and started hollering in Japanese. "Yuu-kun,_ idiot! _Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for hours!"

Bertram grabbed Aldrich's hand, the one that clutched the small objects from Garena. He pried them out, and stuck one in his ear. Alarmed, Aldrich bent down to see what the child had done to himself. Bertram's clumsy fingers painfully grabbed his ear and stuffed an earplug into it, and suddenly Aldrich could understand Shouri. "Oh! I get it! Why thank you, trickster!" And Aldrich gave him a hug.

"Heheh," giggled Bertram. "Odd-Chewy, Up!" So Aldrich picked him up, laughing.

Yuuri was an old hand at ignoring Bertram. "Ah, calling me?" he answered Shouri. "Sorry, we have a crisis going on back home. What do mean, calling me?"

"Well, I have a bigger crisis here!" insisted Shouri, reaching them. "And most of my people haven't reached the trees yet. Bob's retrieving stragglers in Africa, Rodriguez has at least 3 out of 4 stranded in American airports –"

"Shou – Shour – Shouri!" Yuuri stemmed this flood. "Ah – good morning. Bertram, say hi to Uncle Shouri. Lord Aldrich, you remember my brother. Shouri – what are you talking about?" _And where do you get off, assuming your problems are more important than mine?_

"What do you mean, what am I talking about? I called you here to evacuate the demon tribe of Earth to your world! The oceans have gone insane. Quercus told me if that happened, time had run out, and we need to leave immediately for our safety. Then we should gather at the trees we planted, and they'd serve as gateways back to your world. Didn't Quercus send you?"

"Ah – oceans?" Yuuri remembered Quercus' chilling words, _'Soushu is a water nymph. Ocean, in fact.'_ "Sh – sugar. Is everyone from Europe assembled here, at least?" It didn't look like it. He nodded to indicate the throng scattered around the tower. There were nearly 20,000 in the Demon Tribe of Earth, maybe a third of them around Europe, if Yuuri remembered correctly. Yuuri belatedly also noticed the psychedelic tree Aldrich commented on in the _other_ Switzerland. _Oh. Yes, even I know that trees shouldn't look like that…_

"No. I've got nearly a hundred people stuck in the Chunnel – terrorist attack." Shouri shook his head in dismay. "I don't know that anyone's going to make it out of there alive. Structural damage. It's already leaking and flooding. Experts in the news are saying it could cave in at any moment. The rest are still trickling in from all over the EU. Transportation is a nightmare right now. I hired a fleet of biofuel buses, so the protesters should let them through, but traffic is snarled all over. There are protest marches and road-closing demonstrations all over, in support of the terrorists in the US."

"Terrorists in the US? Islamic?" Yuuri was afraid to ask. _No wonder Shouri thinks it's time to bolt._

"No, domestic this time, centered on university campuses. It's Thanksgiving week there. The original concept was peaceful – _'Walk or Stay',_ either you could get home for the holidays on renewable energy, or you stay put. Universities all over the US bowed to student demands to keep campuses open during breaks. But the ecoterrorist extremists decided nobody _else_ is allowed to generate CO2 for Thanksgiving, either. They recruited in the Air Force and stole a lot of planes. Now there are _'kamikaze for Gaia'_ suicide planes over a dozen major airports, not allowing jets to take off or land until every passenger pays a double ransom in carbon offsets. For all of western North America, my people are headed to the tree in _Albuquerque,_ so they're all locked up in jets stalled on runways. Most of the demons for the New York tree are already assembled, though. And Tokyo's got over 90 percent – the police are getting mighty sticky about the number of guests coming to O-kaa-san's backyard party."

"I see," said Yuuri, calm and clear. "Ransom the US airports, Shouri. Our people, and everyone else."

Shouri boggled. "You can't be serious! Do you have any idea how much that would _cost?_ We don't even have that much in liquid assets!" Privately-held DTI – Demon Tribe International, not that they ever explained the initials – had vast financial assets, but not infinite.

Yuuri returned Shouri's irate glare with a gentle smile of compassion. "Perhaps you could sell some transportation stock," he suggested mildly. "Turn it into a PR stunt, Shouri. Invite other corporations to join you in matching funds to get their employees moving, too. Broadcast how the _'DTI ransom for Earth'_ treasury is growing, what corporations have pledged matching funds. Get that and pictures of the '_DTI employee biobuses'_ plastered on all the news networks, so the protesters are cheering our people on. Do whatever it takes, Shouri. The money…" He shrugged sympathetically. "You can't take it with you. Invest it in having a world worth coming back to. But get our people moving."

As Yuuri spoke, Shouri gradually made this new mental adjustment, letting go his last shreds of denial, that this could be a one-way trip. He nodded, gazing in calculation towards his office atop the tower. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."

Yuuri put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and nodded. "I'll get the people we already have, moving to Shin Makoku. But we'll stay, Shouri, you and me. Until our people are out."

The brothers shared an embrace, then Shouri headed at a trot back toward his office, to do whatever it took, to get his people moving to the trees.

Yuuri motioned Aldrich to come along, and headed toward the twisted tree. Maou mode came upon him as he walked, hair gently rising, and snaking with blue power. His fullest self had no doubt whatsoever about what he must do. "Lord Aldrich. Prepare the people while I open a gateway to Blood Pledge Castle. Once the gateway is open, you will go through and delegate their reception to Gwendal and General von Dienst. But I'll need you to come back and work with me. We have eight gates to open, 20,000 refugees to receive."

"Understood, Sire."

Aldrich pulled ahead, Bertram still in his arms, though held normally now, instead of in his punishment football-carry. Aldrich selected a rise near the tortured tree as a pulpit. His troll-bred, Trond-trained public speaking talents required no loudspeaker system, left no doubt that he spoke with authority.

"Demons of Earth! I am Aldrich Lord Bielenfeld, of the world you will evacuate to. My king, Yuuri Maou, brother to your Shouri Maou, is preparing the gateway by which we will lead you there, back to the world of your demon ancestors! You, here assembled, will be the among the first of that historic return. Therefore I call on you to produce leaders today! Shouri Maou and Yuuri Maou must stay behind, to open other gateways, and help others reach the gates. Who among you will lead the van?"

A tall beautiful hard blonde woman walked forward to join Aldrich, in a straight black skirted business suit and stiletto heels. "I'm Stella Krebs, assistant to Shouri Maou. I'll lead the van."

/ _AN: I don't remember Bob's gun-toting blonde henchwoman's name. 'Stella' is her._ /

"Thank you, Stella. Next – who among you are trained in crowd control, traffic police, the military, healers? Please come forward and join Stella's advance team." A trickle of people began sorting themselves out. Others went to tell the people inside the building what was going on. "Everyone who joins this team – _bring your families with you. _Everyone – do not go through the gate without your loved ones and belongings. Once you are within 20 places of the gate, _there is no turning back._ We have 20,000 people to move, and we must move _quickly and orderly._ If you need to use the toilets, if you need to wait for loved ones to arrive, _do not get in line yet._ Please prepare yourselves, and await further instructions.

"In case I do not speak with you again, on this world – on behalf of Yuuri Maou and the Eleven Aristocrats of Shin Makoku, I welcome you!" Aldrich bowed deeply, and quit his hillock to join Stella, who was already sorting volunteers by type.

Over Bertram's outraged protests, Aldrich relieved the toddler of his earplug and gave it to Stella. "Lady Stella, a translation device for your ear. I hope to get more from the other side." He quickly sketched for her what he hoped to accomplish next, and left her to organize the others and start forming the exit line.

Yuuri waited for Aldrich to finish addressing the crowd before he began his work. No nymph had described for him this task – the all of him that was Maou mode, already knew, far better than they. He raised his arms and tore the poor twisted tree from the earth. It turned end over end, spinning until its form was a blur. Then it slowed, and coalesced into a great Japanese torii gate form – the red wooden gates used in Shinto, to mark the gateway to the divine. This settled back to the ground, standing twelve feet tall and four men abreast, its interior an opaque opalescent shimmer. He stood before it, placing a hand on a great post, and bowed his head, eyes closed, for a few moments.

/ _AN: If you're not sure what a 'torii gate' looks like, search Google images. _/

"Wimpy turn blue!" commented Bertram, wide-eyed. "Make tree door!"

Aldrich smiled and nodded, eyes shining. Some might wonder that a man as powerful as Aldrich would follow Yuuri willingly. Aldrich Maou had been especially acerbic on that point. But Lord Aldrich himself had no doubt. _It's for moments like this. Yuuri__** is**__ my master._

Yuuri raised his head and smiled at Aldrich. "Your turn." He fondled Bertram's springy curls and kissed his son. "I love you, Bertram. Give Chewy a kiss for me. I'll see you again as soon as I can. Aldrich, come back as quickly as you can – without him."

Aldrich laughed. He signaled Stella to join him, and they walked up to the pearly curtain within the torii gate. He winked at Bertram. "Ready, trickster?"

Bertram nodded whole-heartedly. "Pwetty!"

Stella looked steelly. She nodded curtly that she was ready, too. They stepped forward together and – tumbled through that same extraordinarily unpleasant twisty wormhole white tornado effect that Yuuri had never come to enjoy. And suddenly, they stood at the foot of Blood Pledge Castle, the red torii gate behind them, by the cobbled road to the garrison.

"Fun!" squealed Bertum in delight, pointing back to the door. "Go again!"

"Perfect!" said Aldrich, ignoring Bertram's new-found taste for twirling in wormholes. "Welcome to Shin Makoku, Lady Stella." A couple soldiers had been passing by, and stopped to gawk. "Troopers! I am Aldrich von Trondheim Lord Bielenfeld, and this is the Lady Stella Krebs. You! My compliments to General von Dienst, and I require him and his top aides at this gate immediately. He will prepare to receive _twenty thousand refugees,_ by order of Yuuri Maou. Please go tell him _now."_ This first soldier boggled a moment, then quickly scurried away up the castle stair. Aldrich turned to the second. "And you, trooper. My compliments to Chancellor Lord Walde and any domain Lords and Lords of Bielenfeld in attendance with him. I require them _all_ at this gate immediately." And the second soldier bounded up the steps as well.

"You're very important, Lord Aldrich," Stella observed, in a tone more guarded than complimentary. "I hope you understand that my people aren't likely to be this… disciplined."

"_No dippin!" _Bertram protested.

Aldrich laughed, and hung the toddler under his elbow again. He nodded reassuringly to Stella. "Understood. I'm actually more concerned about the language barrier." He passed the time outlining for Stella what he expected to set up on this side – with herself acting as cultural interface and liaison with the Shin Makoku authorities. General von Dienst arrived first, and took over this discussion.

As Aldrich expected, Gregor von Dienst didn't bat an eye at this outrageous surprise operation. Granted, offworld aliens who didn't speak the language were a novel twist, but only enough to make the job interesting. Contingency plans to handle 20,000 displaced civilians, though – little things like that were his stock in trade. Von Dienst was delighted. His right-hand man Griesel was already off down to the garrison to customize and implement plans that the general staff had cobbled together months or years ago, over a good bottle of wine.

Aldrich bowed out, leaving Stella to von Dienst, as Manfred reached the top of the stairs first, at a run. _"Bertram!"_ Manfred cried, and pelted down the steps. Aldrich ran up to meet him.

As they reached each other, Bertram hollered, _"Manchu no dippin me! Bertum good boy!"_

Manfred ignored the words and tore Bertram from Aldrich's arms. He mashed the blond curls under his chin with a kiss, and clutched the boy tight, his eyes closed, murmuring, "I know Bertram's a good boy. Oh, I love you, trickster! I'm so glad you're back!"

"Rough day with the kids, dear?" said Aldrich softly. He embraced Manfred gently and planted a kiss on his forehead. Manfred's eyes flew open and he gazed up into Aldrich's searchingly. "Yeah, love, it's me," Aldrich said with a sad smile. "But I'm only here a few minutes. I have to go back and help Yuuri."

"Wimpy turn blue!" Bertram explained to Manfred. "Make big door, fun! Bertum go again!"

By then Greta and Efram caught up. Aldrich gave Efram a quick hug. "Quit causing trouble for Manfred, Pixie. Greta, just the girl I hoped to see!" He plucked the translator out of his ear to show her. "Bertram knew about these things. You know them? I need every single one of them you can bring me in the next ten minutes, and then every other one you can find. Can you do that?" Greta and Efram ran back up the stairs.

By then Dietrich and Trenton arrived, and Aldrich knelt on a stair to grab both of them in a hug. "Oh, I love you! I missed you! And I still have more work to do. I'm counting on you two to help Efram and Greta. We have thousands of people coming, and they have kids. Think how scared you'd be, if you had to leave behind everything you'd ever known! For Lord's Lesson today, I want you to help Efram and Greta make those kids feel better. Think you can do it?"

The blond foster brothers grinned and nodded emphatically. This was an important job, right up their alley! They both aspired to become Head of the Horde of the Bielenfeld-Gratz aristobrats, as Efram's successor. Aldrich sent them ahead down the stairs, and walked down with an arm around Manfred, to steal just a moment together.

Gwendal and the others caught up at the gate, and Aldrich briefed them. Wolfram finally made an appearance with Greta's return, bearing the first five precious translator earplugs. She promised Efram would bring more – these were just the ones from Yuuri and Wolfram's bedroom. Diet and Trent snagged her to join their Lord's Lesson project.

Once he had the translator plugs, Aldrich gave Manfred another quick kiss and squeeze of hand, and departed back through the gate to Earth with Stella. They and von Dienst had agreed the first team would come through almost immediately. Von Dienst's few remaining military police were already deploying along the path to the parade grounds, others headed for the gate at a trot.

"Good morning, Bertram!" said Wolfram, with his usual shining eyes and huge smile for his child, as he took the toddler from Manfred. "Are you having fun this morning?"

Bertram nodded emphatically. "Bertum good boy! Help Odd-Chewy and Wimpy! Down."

"Oh, I'm sure you were a big help!" said Wolfram. He took for granted that he already knew what kind of _'help'_ a toddler would be. Out of habit, he set the child down on request, without thinking about it. Bertram ran straight back through the gate, and disappeared back to Earth.

"_BERTRAM!"_ Wolfram screamed.

Manfred, Conrad, and Gwendal all grabbed him before he could run into the gate. "Aldrich's got him, Wolfram," said Gwendal gruffly.

Wolfram was irate. _"Aldrich! _Aldrich has thousands of refugees to organize! Sweet Shinou, my baby's in the midst of a crisis mob! _Let me go!"_

"He's _fine,_ Wolfram," said Manfred. "I remind you that you're Lord of public health and welfare. _You_ have thousands of refugees to organize. Get to it. That's an order, son." Gwendal and Conrad also stared him down.

Wolfram might still have rebelled, but Stella Krebs returned through the gate. "Lord Wolfram? Lord Aldrich assures you that Bertram is fine, and will stay with him. I understand you're in charge of health and welfare for my people?" Behind Stella came a stream of people, and she began directing traffic. "General, this first group is our crowd control people. Lord Wolfram, the next group is our healers and their families…"

Wolfram ground his teeth in frustration at not being able to go after his darling baby Bertram. But if he was safe with Yuuri and Aldrich, Wolfram would just have to live with it. He put Bertram out of mind as best he could, and set to work.

-oOo-

The evacuation of Earth took ten hours. For the rest of their lives, the Lords and troopers and ordinary demons who facilitated that evacuation, remembered it as among their finest hours. Yuuri asked General von Dienst later, what he could do to reward the hard work of his troopers.

The punctilious von Dienst got misty eyed. "Ah, Sire. That kind of excellence is its own reward. I'd like to assemble the troops, and have you thank them. But the best thing about that speech, will be the joy of reliving a job well done."

And well done it was. The first immigrants arrived shortly after 10 that morning, with almost no warning. Yet lunch was served at noon. Earth's demon tribe was accommodated by the simple expedient of moving the garrison out into tents, to free up the barracks and permanent facilities for the refugees. Food and clothing stocks were dropping fast, of course, but Manfred released Bielenfeld's emergency reserves. The same barges that came down the Donza to deliver supplies, on their return trip carried the first waves of settlers bound for Conrad Lord Weller's large half-Mazoku communities at Lutenberg and Bruscella.

Manfred and Conrad also filled in briefly as Chancellor of Shin Makoku – Manfred officially, for political reasons, but with Conrad supplying the know-how. Once all eight gates were open, Yuuri turned his hand first to shoring up the Chunnel. He requested the strongest earth majutsu users he could get. Gwendal was the only one available at first. But by the time he returned to trade out exhausted elementals for fresh, Erick Lord Trondheim had arrived, having walked to Blood Pledge overnight with three high-troll earthwalkers. With these four helping, Gwendal and Yuuri were able to not only shore up the Chunnel, but clear the debris, fix the tracks, and get the trains moving again. Once clear of the Chunnel at last, the _'DTI employees'_ were tranferred onto DTI-rented biobuses for the rest of the trip to Switzerland. Yuuri sent Gwendal back to run Shin Makoku, but kept the massive Tronds with him to repair traffic-tangling terrorist damage to US runways. What Earth's news media would make of all this, Yuuri didn't care, and Shouri preferred not to think about.

Wolfram was evenly split between handling continued fallout from the nymph reality-mergings on the public psyche, and helping Stella Krebs identify the needs of her people. Stella was spread too thin, so protocol officer Günter took over the mundane challenges of assigning housing and establishing communications boards and missing-persons services. Annissina, with Dorcas assisting, was cranking out translator devices as fast as she could, for use by von Dienst's troops and Yuuri's Lords, and a handful for each of Aldrich's appointed gate leaders.

Dietrich and Trenton felt that kids needed to play. But the games could help them start mastering their new world – they could learn the language. That was something kids could do better than adults. Greta was in charge of curriculum development, figuring out the words to teach. Among von Dienst's troops, she found a veteran of the Trondheim mail who used to teach pidgin-lowland to recruits, who often spoke only Trond when they joined the mail. These two supplied word lists and initial game designs, with help from Earth parents at writing the word lists so that the newcomer children of many nations could read them. Experienced Horde-herder Efram organized the games and kept order. Diet and Trent playtested and taught the games, with their newfound friends among the first evacuees from Europe, New York, and Tokyo, who didn't otherwise share a common language.

And there was ever so much more, everyone pitching in to keep the lines of refugees moving, welcome them, settle them in. Entertainers sent to the Earth side of the gates, to explain to the waiting lines what to expect on the other side. The crowd control troopers who kept people moving smoothly away from the gates. Greeters organized by Professor Symbian, who simply smiled and said _'Welcome back to Shin Makoku!' _to every anxious newcomer, who'd just left behind everything he'd ever known. Healers and doctors who began chronic patients' transition to a new style of medicine. There was plenty to do, plenty for everyone to feel proud of.

Some gates weren't in operation long, especially from Earth's southern hemisphere. The retired Bob, Shouri's predecessor as Maou, had collected every single one of sub-Saharan Africa's 40-odd demon tribesmen before Yuuri and Aldrich reached him. They were through in a flash, and Bob redirected to coordinating at the Shin Makoku side of the gates. Since all the Earth demons knew Bob, it was a great comfort to them to see his calm laconic face and mirrored sunglasses, as they arrived in the strange new world.

By 5:00, the lines had petered off. There were only occasional spurts as stragglers arrived, either under their own power, or by Yuuri and Shouri and Bob using their Maou powers to go out and fetch them. This last method, good only for a couple people at a time, took enormous bursts of power. But Yuuri found that taking a seat for a breather with Bertram, on the Shin Makoku side so that he picked up fresh elementals, somehow recharged him enough to make attempt after attempt.

They didn't get everyone. Some refused to leave, and that was their choice. Shouri also had registered demon tribesmen whom they had no idea how to contact. But if DTI's mass movement of _'employees'_, blazoned all over the news, hadn't reached them, there was simply no more they could do.

-oOo-

At last, they sent Bob and Shouri through a gate to wait in Shin Makoku. Yuuri and Aldrich shut the gates down, from the Earth side. Yuuri's Maou mode came upon him. He raised his arms, and a red torii gate rose with it. Reversing the process of making them, as before, the gate spun into a blur, then slowed, restored to the shape of a tree. But the resulting tree was much smaller and healthier looking than the twisted grotesques they had been. The end product was still a sapling, not the three-week-old seedlings they should have been. But it was a fairly normal looking dead sapling. Then it was Aldrich's turn. He knelt before the tree, laying his plant healing fire on the base of its trunk, restoring its life flow, repairing and strengthening it all he could, a parting benediction. These trees, with their enormous life maryoku, would continue to heal Earth's groaning atmosphere, though of themselves, they weren't enough. Then Yuuri would transport the pair of them to the next gate, they walked through to recharge, then went back to do it again.

When they reached the eighth and final gate, Bob stepped forward. "I'm going back, to stay with Earth," he said. "In retirement, I'm still DTI's chairman of the board. I can deploy DTI's assets, put them to good use helping save the planet, salvage what I can, keep the demon tribe's options open to return some day. Shouri – take good care of our people. I believe in you." Bob shook Shouri's hand, and stepped through the gate.

"Sorry, boss," said Stella Krebs to Shouri, "but I'm staying with Bob. He needs a bodyguard and a counter signature. And hell – where would I get another clip for my gun here, anyway?" And with a final fey and crooked grin, she too stepped back through the gate to Switzerland.

Shouri looked torn, whether it was his duty to go down with his ship instead of Bob's. But Yuuri put a hand on his shoulder. "We need you here to lead your people, Shouri. I promise you, we won't give up on Earth. But we need to work the problem from this side." He shot a quick smile at Wolfram and picked up Bertram, to carry him through to Earth with him. "I'll be back soon, love."

"You'd better be," Wolfram breathed.

Manfred and Aldrich exchanged eye contact and a solemn nod. And Yuuri and Aldrich and Bertram stepped back through the final gate.

Bob and Stella had stepped back to watch them from a hundred yards away. Aldrich took Bertram, and said quietly, "Yuuri, are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Earth needs all the help we can give it. Don't worry, Aldrich. I travelled between Earth and Shin Makoku many times before these trees were planted." And they closed the final gate.

When Aldrich rose from his knees, the eighth sapling restored to life, the two men arranged themselves and Morgif and Bertram, such that each held each of the others. Yuuri smiled at his friend and son reassuringly, and nodded goodbye to Bob and Stella. And Yuuri reached to bring them home. And they vanished off the face of the Earth.

-oOo-

Wolfram and Manfred stood there waiting for them, at the base of Blood Pledge Castle, unable to even pretend to work. Shouri and Conrad, Gwendal and Cecilie, stood with them. The torii gate rose and spun and shrank into nothingness, just as the others had.

And they waited. Gradually, the others gave up, and wandered back into the castle, or down to the refugee-filled garrison. Wolfram remained, alone under the cold November stars, until Cecilie and Conrad went back to coax him in, to come put his remaining children to bed.

-oOo-

_Present day, Wells Forgotten of the Angels, and of the Five Kings_

Suddenly transported to Switzerland, Hon-Aldrich Maou immediately noticed the envelope addressed to him in Trond, lying next to Morgif on the dock at his feet. He matter-of-factly reattached Morgif to his sword belt, and found the translator earbud. He used it as the envelope directed, and was then able to follow Hon-Yuuri's conversation with his brother. This version of brother Shouri seemed to go with this version of Yuuri. Good enough news, yes, but rather dampened by the task of extracting 20,000 demon tribesmen. And taking them back – where? Neither Shin Makoku nor Hon Makoku would welcome these people, who were far more human than Mazoku. But Yuuri, of course, was loyal to his kinsmen. So poverty-stricken human-loathing Shin Makoku would get them whether they wanted to or not.

Before Aldrich Maou had decided how to pose these objections, the Archangel Garena appeared, to lead the demon tribe back to the promised land. Yuuri Pretender didn't recognize the Archangel, tall and many-braided, in his billowing white angel togs and fire healer halo. Hon-Aldrich stared at his uncle Garena in disbelief.

Garena did not deign to acknowledge his nephew Aldrich's unbelief. "Firstly," quoth the _'archangel'_, "Yuuri Maou shall open the gates to the promised land. Then, the box must go through. Yuuri Maou, Aldrich Maou, Shouri Maou, and I, shall between us carry the Great Box into the next world to open the Way. When we return, the people shall line up and go forth unto a better place."

Yuuri did an enviable job of the majustsu theatrics, Aldrich had to admit. The audience _ooh'd_ and _aah'd_ as the great red torii gate, entrance glistening opalescent mystery, settled back to the ground. The three Maou's, Yuuri and Aldrich in front, Shouri and Arch-uncle Garena at the back, hoisted the box in a sort of coffin-carry, and set off into the milky unknown. After a truly hideous trip through the insane white cuisinart wormhole passage, Yuuri and Aldrich stepped out into a clearing in the wood, within sight of Shinou's temple, domed in power, pulsating with roiling purple-black menace.

They stepped forward, and suddenly the back right, Shouri's corner, dropped to the ground. They looked back to find Shouri and the gate… gone.

-oOo-

That reality, Earth and its six billions and all, had completed its purpose for existence the moment Yuuri and Aldrich and the box crossed the gate's threshold. So Quercus turned it off.

He'd only created it to supply a second Yuuri for the well of the five kings. He needed a second copy of the box, too.

-oOo-

_Present day, Well of the Five Kings_

"_Shouu-uriii!"_ the Pretender Yuuri screamed, reaching out toward where his brother had once been.

And then all three of them disappeared, leaving an anonymous wooden box hidden in the woods. Garena, in normal Lord von Bielenfeld finery, appeared back at the conference of the five kings – only four kings, without Aldrich. He reported that the fourth box retrieval was a complete success. Garena would guard the box by Shinou's Tomb, but requested that Axel Duke Abercrombie and his men rendezvous with him there as quickly as possible to secure the area for the _'next phase'. _

Garena didn't exactly lie. The kings simply assumed that Aldrich and Yuuri were waiting at the box. They assumed that the _'next phase'_ referred to conquering Soushu, the plan that _other-_Yuuri Maou felt was so urgent. And they set those plans in motion.

Garena disappeared again, ostensibly to guard the box. He didn't need to project a physical presence to do so, however. Near the clearing where the box rested, stood magnolia, pussy willow, and dogwood trees, denuded of leaves, anonymous in the chill November morning.

-oOo-

_Please review? I gets discouraged when I don't get reviews. T.T_


	10. Well of the Two Nymphs

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: Sorry for the long break - just moved, and having a hard time getting back into writing… I'm also half done with an illustration for _The Courtship of Gwendal's Father (Shining Moments)_ called _The Contenders_. So far, Phoebe and Sophie are up on my website.

Update 8/24/2007: Clarified Quercus' refutation of Ponderosa a bit at the end.

**Chapter 10 – Well of the Two Nymphs**

_Three mornings later, Well of the Five Kings_

A drip of cold water struck his earlobe and ran down his neck, waking Prince Wolfram with the dark dawn. He and Dietrich had joined Duke Axel's expedition to Blood Pledge. As men of privilege, they'd made the trip a number of times in King Wolfred's fast river cutters, powered by wind majutsu. Alas, with a small army of cavalry and infantry, this wasn't that kind of trip. Their tent was drumming with rain and breathing those repellent suck-chuff noises wet canvas made in gusty winds, as the fabric billowed and deflated against its guylines. The sound of sails aloft doing that had always made Wolfram melancholy, an ancient sad ache that he didn't reflect on, as it had always been so. Mere inches from his face was _not_ an improvement.

Fortunately Wolfred had coached his grandson in facing life's little irritants. _Let's warm up before facing the road again, Diet... _They slept spoon-fashion, sharing blankets in the pup tent. Wolfram's crotch nestled most snuggly into Dietrich's sculpted runner's rear, with the inevitable excited morning result. Wolfram pulled back a little in the gloom, to let the cool suck-chuffing air blow down Dietrich's bare back. The other young man's shoulders stiffened and rose slightly in protective reflex. Wolfram accentuated the shiver by drawing a fingertip from Diet's earlobe, down the long muscle to his collarbone, then around back to draw it down his spine –

– Shin-Wolfram traced a finger down Yuuri's back in the gloom, too muzzy with sleep yet to have noticed that he was no longer in his huge four-poster bed, with Ekaterin snug in her baby basket nearby. Tactile senses awoke before he did. _This back is too long. That firm muscle is __**not**__ my wimp's butt!_ He jerked his hand away, and sat bolt upright in the tent. Which was a rather hideous sensation, as the cold wet lung of tent canvas sucked in to greet his face.

He scooted back into the tent ridge. "My apologies, Lord Dietrich. I'm… the_ other_ Wolfram."

After a silence, his age-mate replied, "I understand. For what it's worth, Lord Wolfram, I've told _my_ Wolfram that we shouldn't… do _this_ again, until the swapping of wells is solved. _Other-_Dietrich is too young to be exposed to sex. He seems very worried by it."

"_Thank _you! Yes, our little Diet is very sensitive –" But he was sitting up in his own bed again, speaking to Yuuri's empty side of the warm dry bed. He gulped, and fell onto Yuuri's pillow, clutching it, muffling his sobs so as not to wake the baby.

_Damn you, Yuuri, where are you? Three nights! Your people are falling apart! Your kingdom's economy is in tatters! Your family… I… And just like an __**idiot wimp**__ like you, to __**dump twenty thousand in-laws on me,**__ and then disappear! Yuuri, if you don't come back alive I'm gonna __**kill you!**__ And why, __**damn you!**__ did you have to take __**Bertram?!**_

But yelling at Yuuri was more satisfying out loud and in person, and repetition had deadened this mental tirade emotionally. He soon dressed and gathered up the still-sleeping Ekaterin to join his father Manfred in the nursery for morning bottles.

Despite the early hour, Manfred was there before him, lost in contemplation, hand on Bertram's empty crib, his twins still asleep. He looked haggard. "Ah, good morning, Wolfram. You startled me. You're not usually up this early."

"Chichiue… Did you even go to bed?"

Manfred sighed, and came and joined Wolfram on the sofa. "I tossed and turned a bit, then gave up and worked on your stuff for a while. Finally got to bed a couple hours ago, but then Dietrich was up crying… So, bed yes, sleep no."

"They'll be back," Wolfram whispered. "I have to believe that. It's just so hard…"

"Waiting. Yes. It's much easier to charge in with sword and fire dragon, than to wait for news and then pick up the pieces. That was better, after I left your mother. Only heard about her more hair-raising exploits as Maou when they were comfortably over. _Although._ Parenting can be awfully… wait-intensive, as well. On the bad days."

They both stared dolefully at their infants for a few moments, wondering what sleepless nights these _particular_ instances of the species had in store for them. The cheery nursery walls and lights were helpless to dispel the gloom of the dark morning and their thoughts.

Wolfram finally broke the silence. "Of course, when the _wimp_ does get back alive, I shall have to kill him."

"Of course." Manfred shot him a beautiful crooked green-eyed demon grin. "You know, son, I think I shall have to try your technique. I don't think I've ever gone insanely vindictive and abusive on Aldrich. Pity he doesn't like it kinky. A flogging might cheer me up."

Wolfram laughed, and groaned. "Oh, why do we do that?"

True sign of his fatigue, Manfred answered the question honestly. "Emotional alchemy. Anger feels better, more powerful, than sad and vulnerable, afraid, lonely, overwhelmed, unequal to the task… _However._ Doing something constructive is the next healthy step. Get angry to build up energy, then _do_ something. Speaking of which, I reviewed your public health and welfare work last night. You're doing a valiant job on the palliatives, but I think it's time for a new agenda. Taking in the Earth refugees did a world of good for public morale hereabouts. Maybe we could find a way to spread the love around, hm?"

"Good suggestion, thanks," said Wolfram, thoughtful. "But – is that what you were tossing and turning about? _My_ work?"

"No, no. I… Friedrich asked me last night how long I should wait here for Aldrich. I was here as Bielenfeld PH&W officer, and Aldrich… was only here to visit the children and me. As Lord Bielenfeld, he intended to be in his office the next day."

Wolfram nodded and shot his father a crooked green-eyed grin. "Yes, of course, Chichiue. Can't have you laying about here and undermining my authority all the time. And Lord Howard would usurp your regency! I should hate to think **my father** was the one who lost the throne for our branch of the von Bielenfelds." It was lame, but the best flippancy he could come up with while his heart was sinking so precipitously. _Abandoned again._

Manfred cracked a dark wry grin of understanding. "Might drop off a fosterling in Gratz along the way as well –" He cut that thought off abruptly.

For Dietrich had wandered in. He jerked a stiff nod to Manfred, but continued until he stood before Wolfram. Beet red, the child gulped, nodded, and said carefully, "Good morning, Brother. Thank you for your help this morning with the _other _Wolfram and Dietrich."

Wolfram wanted to hug the boy, but stopped himself in time. "I didn't realize you were… Anything I can do to help, Brother, just ask. And Dietrich… I'm honored and grateful that you came to face me this morning. You are one brave kid. I'm proud to be your brother." The pair had settled on simply calling each other _'Brother',_ without any elder-younger-step-higher-lower embellishments.

"Thank you," Dietrich whispered, then allowed Manfred's arms to enfold him, with a kiss. "May I help feed the babies?"

"Mm-hmm! Let's wake them, shall we?" He walked over to his double-basket-on-wheels contraption and picked one up. "Good morning, little Foxy, will you have a bottle with your brother?"

But when he turned back holding the infant, he faced an empty couch.

Trenton von Gratz – rarely far from Dietrich – stood in the doorway, mouth and eyes wide. "Chichiue Manfred… they disappeared!"

Manfred wrapped the boy in a hug as his face crumpled. Though few people were up and about yet, Manfred could hear a shout of alarm down the hall, propagating along the hall guards. He stuck his head out of the nursery and flagged one down, to report Wolfram and Dietrich's sudden disappearance, and inquire what else was amiss.

"Lord Gwendal, sir," the nervous guard replied. "Lady Annissina says he disappeared before her eyes, asleep in his bed. She went to consult with Lady Cecilie, and found her missing, then Lord Conrad." He glanced up the hall. "She's searching room to room. She'll be in this corridor soon. I need to report, sir!" And the guard rushed away, probably more afraid of Annissina than his guard captain.

Fearing Trenton too could disappear at any moment, Manfred kept him in his sight every minute, as well as the three infants, a clutch of nannies he picked up along the way, and the frightened Greta and little Frieda. Efram was also missing from his bed. The shell-shocked Manfred would have found it very difficult to move about with this full entourage. But within the hour, that became a moot point.

For with General von Dienst, Gwendal, Conrad, Günter, Adelbert, Wolfram and Friedrich, Murata, and Erick Lord Trondheim _all_ missing, Manfred was by default acting Chancellor of all Shin Makoku, Annissina advising, until he could find somebody – _anybody!_ – better qualified to take it from them. So, he could simply park all his nannies and children in the dining room. Everyone else came to _him_ for answers.

_Pity I don't have any._

Inquiries did produce a stand-in Maou. Yuuri's brother Shouri had not disappeared. Manfred had never felt sympathy quite so deep for Gwendal's trials, as when he sat down to brief this Maou, who knew _absolutely nothing _about Shin Makoku, on their status.

Annissina bravely assured them that _she_ knew all about their jobs, even if they didn't.

-oOo-

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

_"Yuuuurrrriii!" _Shin-Wolfram, er, squealed, hands bunched into fists by his sides, arms rigid and shaking, face barely held from crumpling.

Yuuri –_ his_ Yuuri – strode to him promptly and held both his arms – to limit assault risk – and kissed him deeply. "Shh, love, it's alright. Oh, it's good to see you!" He lay his forehead on Wolfram's and gentled his husband for a moment.

After a few deep breaths for calm, Wolfram pushed him away and looked around a glade full of twins greeting each other. Across from him stood Hon-Wolfram, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, observing his interaction with Yuuri. Shin-Aldrich hugged his son Dietrich, with an older smiling Hon-Dietrich kneeling to talk to the boy. King Wolfred picked up Efram and swung him around, laughing. King Julius sat on the grass to meet his similarly reincarnated grandson, current ruler of Shin-Wincott under the regency of one of the twin Lord Elliots standing chatting beside them. Gwendal and Cecilie were prying their alter egos out of their shells. Hon-Adelbert and Hon-Brendan provided backup muscle to Shin-Conrad against the turncoat Hon-Conrad, while a guarded reunion proceeded between Shin-Brendan and Shin-Adelbert with their dead father Hon-Adeldan, except _he_ had never abandoned _his_ wife and sons.

Trondheim was well represented. Shin-Erick presented his baby Vlad to King Franklin, surrounded by Hon-Erick and twinned Lady Alanas, Lord Teds, and Lord Friedrichs. Shin-Erick's other adoptive son, the toddler ogre Dannikin, was in the arms of an adolescent Hon-Dannikin, and the little centaur Murata Lucy was cavorting with an adolescent version of herself, nearly as tall as the von Trondheims. The twin Murata Kens compared notes beside them. Wolfram didn't know the several pairs of elves near them, though he did recognize several of Erick's majutsu heavy hitters.

Toward the other end of the clearing congregated twins of other Mazoku Lords and powerful majutsu champions, including Sylvain von Tarkenburg von Donaghie, and General Gregor von Dienst. Shin-Günter flitted around in peals of delight, greeting long-lost comrades, Hon-Günter dogging his steps trying to engage him in a serious conversation.

Hon-Aldrich Maou and Hon-Yuuri stood speaking with Wolfram's forebear Tariel and his friend Salix of the pussy willow. In fact… yes, this hill could well be Tariel's home in the Krist Fens in springtime. The magnolia, dogwood, pussy willow, and moutain laurel surrounding them were all in bloom. Flat green herb expanses, punctuated with a few low hills like this one, stretched to the gleaming white cliffs of the Trondheim Escarpment in the distance.

_But it's almost December._ Wolfram's eyes narrowed further. "Yuuri…" he began in feigned calm, then slapped his husband's face, hard. _"Where's Bertram?"_ he hissed.

"Aha! Ah, Wolfram… Bertram's fine, don't worry! We need to, um, let's call this meeting to order, and explain to everyone at once.

"People? Ah, hello? May I have your attention, please?" The crowd unanimously ignored him. "Ah, Lord Erick, could you…?"

Erick strode to the center of the glade. At 7'3", he didn't need a podium. "_SILENCE!_ _Lords, Ladies!_ I realize these reunions are _compelling!_ Greeting our shadow selves from another reality in person! Seeing the loved and lost in the flesh again!" He raised his arm in salute to his father Franklin and the other Kings, Wolfred, Julius, and Adeldan, who solemnly nodded back. Erick had the group's complete attention in hand.

"But we gather here miraculously, in a place clearly not of _either _of our worlds, for a _purpose!_ Our people are wracked with otherworldly visions! Yuuri Maou's entire _homeworld _of demons have fled to our country! Our economies are at a_ standstill! _The arch-enemy Soushu has resurfaced to threaten us _again! _The nymphs have threatened to _annihilate_ one of our realities! We demand _answers!"_ Erick began punctuating stressed words with a fist in the air. "We demand _action!_"

Efram, then Wolfred, led others to start replying to Erick's raised fist, _RAH! _"We demand a lasting _solution!" RAH! _"For both our worlds to coexist in peace and _safety!"RAH!_ The audience was getting riled up. King Franklin appeared to ponder whether his rights and responsibilities extended to muzzling an alternate reality son.

"Ah, Erick?" Yuuri timidly tried to hint that he yield the stage. Lord Aldrich came and put an arm on Erick's high shoulder.

"Yes, to speak to these questions," continued Erick, "I give you the saviors of Trondheim, our _heroes!"_ _RAH! _"Yuuri _Maou!"_ _RAH! _"And the greatest nymph of them all, _TARIEL!" RAH!_

Aldrich interrupted, "One for all and all for one! Shamshesh alte'in, _MAKOKU RAH!" RAAHH!_ "Thank you, Erick Lord Trondheim!"_ RAH!_ "Yuuri?"

"Spoilsport. I was just warming up," said Erick in an aside to Aldrich, with a fey grin.

"Yes, that's what I was afraid of. Sire?"

"Ah," said Yuuri, scratching the side of his nose ruefully. Following Erick was daunting. "I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here…" _YAH! _"We are gathered here to finally conquer the great enemy Soushu." _YAH!_ "It appears that when I defeated Soushu," _RAH! _"Ah, and freed Shinou," _RAH!_ "…in our well, and freed the nymphs and other races," _RAH! _ "Ah, yes, thank you. _But!_ Soushu _escaped,_ and _remains_ in the well of the five kings. There, he is caged. But that cage is unravelling. His power extends again, causing destruction even unto my homeworld, the well – um, Earth. If Soushu escapes again, _all_ our worlds will be destroyed.

"Tariel brought the Aldrichs and I together here several days ago." Most of that time Yuuri spent sleeping off his Maou-exploits on Earth, but no need to mention that. "We learned that the Great Nymphs sought to merge our wells for a reason. To give Soushu nowhere to run. And to merge the strongest of us into the well of the five kings to face him."

"_NO WAY!"_ interjected King Wolfred. "We refuse to be merged!"

"Exactly! Exactly," agreed Yuuri. "We reject their so-called _'solution'_. The Five Kings and I agree to conquer Soushu, but demand that _both_ our wells continue. Some nymphs agree. Foremost among them is Tariel, the only nymph who has been alive and among us these past four thousand years. Tariel is champion of the dwindling Mazoku races. He helped resurrect those races in our well, and restored all the nymphs. For _all_ Makoku, our greatest patron nymph, _Tariel!"_ _RAH! _"Tariel and his partner Salix of the nymphs created this special well, where we of the two wells can meet our counterparts. Tariel has a plan. Tariel?"

Tariel and Salix stepped forward to join Yuuri and face the crowd. "Yuuri is good speaker," Tariel said, bowing slightly to him. "Erick is _great _speaker. In five thousand years, never hear better speaker." He bowed deeper to Erick. "I'm not so good." The audience chuckled.

Tariel got to the point. "_We stole you._ Salix and I make this new well, the well of the two nymphs and bring you here. We stole you from the Great Nymphs, so they must listen. They must conquer Soushu. They cannot without _you_. But the well of the one king, the well of the five kings, do not hold you anymore. So they must come _here_ and make deal. Are you ready?"

There were murmurs of assent. "You are wrong," Tariel said sadly. "You are not ready. Fighting Soushu, really beating him, is very hard. You may not win. You may lose both wells. The Great Nymphs may not agree. They may try to fight without you, and lose your worlds. You must not let that happen. You must stand united, decided, determined to fight Soushu and win, demand that nymphs agree. Then you must plan carefully, fight the hardest fight you have ever fought, and win to protect all that you love. You are not ready. But you can _become _ready. Are you willing to give it _everything?"_

The small crowd was hushed and subdued. Aldrich Maou and Hon-Yuuri Maou stepped forward to join Lord Aldrich and Shin-Yuuri and the nymphs. Hon-Aldrich said, "On behalf of Hon Makoku, I pledged that we would do this. Are you with me?" The other four Kings slowly nodded, followed by the rest from Hon Makoku.

Lord Aldrich said, "The Lords of _our _Shin Makoku, trust and follow Yuuri Maou." Cheers followed this.

Hon-Yuuri addressed Hon-Günter, "Lord Krist, I ask you and your men to also join this fight. Axel Duke Abercrombie and his forces are nearing Shinou's temple. After we conquer Soushu, their help restoring Krist and Khrennikov, is a real possibility." Wisely, he did not make promises at this point. Hon-Günter nodded solemnly.

Shin-Yuuri concluded, "We are determined, Tariel. _Bring it on."_

Tariel nodded. "I call other nymphs."

-oOo-

Tariel raised his arms, and grew. Getting somewhat thinner, but still shaped as a pre-adolescent boy, he grew to the height of a small dogwood tree, over fifteen feet. He bowed his head, and seedlings sprouted all around them, growing no higher than their waists. And Tariel subsided back to his normal boy size.

Leaves rustled, including leaves of grasses, and there were soft gurgling sounds, though no bodies of water seemed to have been added, and no breeze blew. Tariel and Salix stood with eyes closed, faces expressionless, as though letting this sussurus of sound wash over them.

Tariel broke off this impassive stance first. He irritably announced, "I can't translate ten thousand nymphs! There must be representatives, and you must speak to the Mazoku!" Salix opened his eyes and grinned at his friend.

Yuuri made a move to ask a question, but both nymphs held out hands in warning.

Tariel seemed to insist that he, at least, would not say anything that the Mazoku couldn't hear. "Quercus… Water and field both judge… Shinou… _Not_ Ponderosa." Tariel bowed his head in acknowledgement, and the murmuring of leaf and grass and water died back. He turned to the Mazoku, and introduced as four great nymphs appeared, all as adults, unlike the child-like lesser nymphs Tariel and Salix. "Quercus and Ponderosa speak for two factions of wood nymph. To referee, Ceres field nymph, Rain water nymph."

The red oak nymph Quercus, many had already met. He considerately set his height to match whomever he was speaking to, normally around six feet. He had a burly build and red-brown hair, with a ruddy face. Several had met Ponderosa before, as well. She disdained mortals and materialized well above twenty feet tall. Grimacing as the other nymphs followed Quercus' lead, she shrank to a foot above Erick, and would sink no lower. She wore her green-black long hair in layers, with a green-black straight long shift. The voluptuous blonde Ceres made even Cecilie's figure look boyish, and it showed, as she wore nothing but a low-slung grass skirt. The water nymph Rain, with giant eyes of a chilling grey-blue, and long straight grey hair over a silvery straight shift, was Ceres' antithesis, so slender and under-endowed as to barely seem female.

Rain spoke in a high voice with sonorous depths. "Tariel shall speak first." She and Ceres stepped back.

"I steal these people, so Great Nymphs must talk to them. They are willing to fight Soushu. They are not willing to merge wells. I will not let you force them. Four thousand years you sleep unaware. The mortals have grown. But you treat them like seedlings, like field mice or minnows. There is the One Law, yes. But the higher law, is that we do not kill. To merge wells, is to kill."

"Salix shall speak," said Ceres. Ponderosa whirled to object, but no sound came from her.

"The lesser nymphs hear Tariel. Four thousand years we sleep unaware. Our own kind, _Tariel_ freed us from slavery, by _working with the mortals._ The Great Ones vote and expect us to follow them. We do not. We follow Tariel, because he knows what he is talking about. We follow Tariel because he cares about _'lesser nymphs'_ and _'mortals'_. He saved the very nymphs _who condemned him by the One Law."_ Salix paused for emphasis. "Great wood nymphs do not allow lesser nymphs to vote. Field nymphs, water nymphs, I submit the vote of the lesser wood nymphs to you: Do not merge the wells. Defeating Soushu is urgent, too urgent for us to learn all we have missed, before we act. Follow Tariel and Quercus."

"The field and water nymphs hear the lesser wood nymphs," acknowledged Ceres. "Ponderosa."

"The lesser nymphs have no vote!" spat Ponderosa. "The actions of these two are _intolerable!"_

"Field and water hear Salix," reiterated Rain. "Speak to the question, or yield to Quercus."

Ponderosa backpedaled. "The plan is that the wells merge. There should never have been two. The well of the one king was sustained by monstrous interventions by Shinou, abusing the stolen nymphs' powers. But the well of one king," she pointed at Shin-Yuuri, "has fought Soushu before. After time for the Mazoku to reintegrate in the well of five kings, recover from the disruption of the merging, Soushu breaks loose. They fight, with all the people and boxes and sword assembled necessary to win, and the nymphs empower them. The nymphs have time to re-acclimate by then. Soushu is defeated, and the wrongness of two wells is solved. I also speak to the point that the mortals have _'grown up'_ –"

"No," judged Ceres, holding her hand up. Again, Ponderosa's voice was summarily squelched, though her mouth still moved. "An untruth? Quercus shall speak to the untruth."

Quercus said, "Several untruths. One – there is not time for nymphs to re-acclimate. Soushu is breaking free _now_. For the Mazoku, merging the wells and personalities is a crippling psychic shock, to individuals, then close relationships, then the entire fabric of society. There is not time for these Mazoku rulers to recover, restore their societies, and fight at their best.

"Two – Soushu learned from the previous fight, so the same tricks will not work again. The fact that Yuuri fought Soushu before, in the well of the one king, makes this battle _harder,_ not easier.

"Three – not all _people_ needed would result when the wells are merged. _This_ one, Wolfram," Quercus pointed to Wolfram, "is a draw, not a default. He is driven insane by the internal fight between two personalities, neither of whom will yield. _That _one, Yuuri," he pointed to Yuuri, "is the spearhead of any confrontation against Soushu. But he is gravely weakened by concern for Wolfram. And that _other_ one, Conrad, needs a different physical arm, supplied by Shinou. The reflection of Conrad cannot provide the key to open the box. Thus, merging wells compromises three of the five key Mazoku needed to succeed.

"Four – this is all moot. The wells can no longer merge. They are no longer congruent due to the addition of twenty thousand half-Mazoku from the forsaken well."

Shin-Yuuri looked to Tariel, who hung his face in his hand in embarassment. He hadn't thought of that, clearly. _Quercus stacked the deck by telling my brother to evacuate Earth! By evacuating the Demon Tribe from Earth, whenever Earth showed symptoms of Soushu escaping control, he made sure that it was impossible for the wells to be merged against our will? Excellent! Then we… No. We still must conquer Soushu,_ Yuuri realised, resolve strengthening. _That, in any case. But Wolfram, __**my**__ Wolfram, is safe! Isn't he?_

"Ponderosa," said Ceres.

"And just _who_ was responsible for –" Ponderosa began.

"Quercus shall speak his plan," ruled Ceres. She clearly wouldn't tolerate bickering.

Quercus bowed his head graciously, more prone than the other nymphs to demonlike niceties. "Using Tariel and Salix's brilliant two-nymph well as a staging area, the mortals select their _willing_ and _temporary_ team to confront Soushu in the well of the five kings. They are united in resolve, instead of crippled by psychic shock. The nymphs contain the arena, that Soushu cannot escape to another well, except alone to one of his own creation, from whence he cannot return. That is sufficient defeat for our purposes. He is weak enough for us to conquer, and cannot return, because _before_ the mortals fight him, a new ocean nymph has assumed his natural powers. Clearly, the water nymphs must select that nymph." He bowed to Rain. "What is left to fight is Soushu's accreted powers from the fear-based failings of mortals – anger, envy, despair, etc. Note," he raised an arm in warning and turned, addressing the assembled Mazoku, "those accreted powers are still _formidable!_ But, you will have _four_ Maous, plus your greatest champions, to fight them, and the _combined_ power of both halves of yourselves to draw on. The four Maous are Yuuri, the spearhead, plus Aldrich, Cecilie, and _Shinou._ This time, Shinou will fight _with _you rather than _against_ you, Yuuri."

The sussurus of leaf and grass and water grew like an uproar of cicadas and crickets. Ceres said, "Stop," and silence was complete. "Rain, there is a verdict?"

Rain nodded slowly. The other three great nymphs grew taller and more attenuated, until they disappeared. Tariel and Salix exchanged glances but apparently decided to remain right where they were, amongst the Mazoku.

Rain spoke. "Three months ago, the water nymphs decided, that none of us could replace Soushu as ocean nymph, the most powerful of all nymphs, the power from which all other living powers descend.

"We considered the field and wood nymphs. The greatest field nymph, Ceres, declined. She chooses instead to lead the field nymphs, to adjust to the many changes mortals wrought while we slept.

"The greatest wood nymph, Quercus, was a compelling choice, he who was aware and plotting the future, while all other great nymphs slept. But we saw that Ponderosa had a greater following now in the debates of the wood nymphs. So we considered both. We especially watched their ability to predict and guide the actions and decisions _of other nymphs._ Ponderosa's plan is destroyed by the free choice of the lesser nymphs. Quercus' plan was advanced by their actions. Clearly Quercus has the greater power to plot the future.

"We also considered a third nymph – Tariel. I ask you now, Tariel, would you recommend yourself? Or Quercus?"

Tariel's eyes were wide, his face blank. After a moment, he found voice to speak. "I follow Quercus. I am not a great nymph. I… When I created this well, I was afraid the great nymphs would cast me down, make me a fallen angel, a mortal with my sons, for what I have done. I think… I would prefer that, to the greatest power of all. Quercus, is greatest of all."

Rain nodded. "As we expected you would say. Quercus. You accept the power of ocean nymph?"

Quercus reappeared before her, and bowed. "I accept."

Whereupon Rain bowed to_ him._ As did Tariel and Salix.

-oOo-

AN: Oy, this chapter was like pulling teeth… This is my third scrap-it-and-start-over attempt. Does anyone deeply mind if I give this battle-to-end-all-battles thing short shrift and skip on to interpersonal denouement? As a pro writer, that would be lame beyond belief, and in anime, they'd normally turn the Big Battle into 5-10 episodes, but… This is a hobby, and I don't want to write it. And you don't want to read it. Right? We should just fast-forward to heartwarming reunions, children being cute, and some serious snogging. _Right?_

So votes for : 1. collossal battle, 2. further byzantine plot, 3. heartwarming reunions, 4. 'Bite Me' and other children's scenes, and/or 5. romantic interludes. Multiple selections and write-in suggestions welcome…

_Please review? I gets discouraged when I don't get reviews. T.T_


	11. Eye of the Storm

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Wow, thanks for all the feedback last chapter! Very helpful! LOL on "Bite me!" as__** the**__ critical plot thread. Guess y'all like long stories, huh…_

_It's greatly easier to write two chapters in a week, than one chapter in a month. I should remember that, huh… Sorry for the slow update._

_FWIW, I reworked the end of the last chapter to make it a bit clearer – Rain was final arbiter of the schism between the nymphs, and Quercus was chosen new Ocean Nymph to replace Soushu, the arch-enemy. Arch-enemy of demons, at least – we're not sure how the nymphs feel about their ex boss nymph. Their take on "destroying the world" isn't quite the same as ours…_

**Chapter 11 – Eye of the Storm**

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

When Rain completed her bow to Quercus, she disappeared, and Quercus turned to address the Mazoku. "I'm afraid I must leave you now to assume my new position. There will be no further uncontrolled mergings between your realities. You will meet your other sides here, and only here, unless your pair agrees otherwise. Your countrymen will experience no further mergings at all. Today, you are free to remain here, or return to your own affairs. In twenty-four hours, you will be brought back here, and we begin our preparations in earnest. Salix, you can orchestrate this? Thank you. If all goes well, we confront Soushu six days from now. If things go less well… we fight Soushu _sooner."_ Quercus paused to let that sink in.

"Any questions?" Everyone raised their hands. "Quercus happily beamed at them. "_Good!_ Tariel comes with me. Salix, I leave our guests in your capable hands."

And with that, Quercus and Tariel disappeared. The many tree seedlings also sank back into the ground, and disappeared.

The raised hands sank, too. "Are nymphs _always_ like that?" complained King Julius von Wincott. "Friedrich, could you explain what just happened here?"

Hon-Friedrich snorted in amusement. "Alright. First and foremost, Quercus has promised that our wells are safe. _Quercus_ was elected new king of the nymphs. Apparently this merging business was mixed up in Soushu's succession as ocean nymph, the most powerful nymph of all. The key to Rain's judgment was, '_ability to predict the actions and decisions of other nymphs.'_ From that angle, the nymphs reached consensus – only Quercus anticipated the other nymphs, greater and lesser, and Mazoku as well. Thus he proved himself yet again as their greatest seer. Is that right, Salix?"

"Yes," said Salix. "Also best plan to control Soushu. More of that tomorrow. Today rest while Quercus assumes power. Can go back to your worlds, but only if both of pair agree and leave at same time -"

"Did I hear this correctly?" King Wolfred butted in. "Conrad of the well of the _one_ king, will fight in the well of the _five_ kings? His actual _body?_ Can _I _go to the other well? Efram, darling! You want to visit my well, don't you?"

"_Yeah!_ Awesome!"

"No," said Salix. "Most, yes. And either can face Soushu. But Wolfred cannot."

Wolfred folded his arms belligerantly. "I'm _going._ I want to see my son!"

"_Cannot,"_ reiterated Salix. "Because Wolfred… Garena?" For Friedrich's nymphier twin had emerged from the flowering magnolia trees, carrying Bertram. A strange man concealed in a dark red cowled cloak appeared with them, but hung back in the shadow of the trees.

Garena nodded unperturbed, to acknowledge Salix' plea for help managing Wolfred. "Wolfred, the way the others trade wells from here – you cannot, or the wells will become unstable. You embody the split between the wells."

Efram was dismayed by Wolfred's crestfallen face. "But look, Grandfather – you can meet _his _Wolfram and Bertram right now! C'mere, Chu trickster!" Efram knelt with arms wide as Garena put Bertram down.

"_Bertram!"_ cried Shin-Wolfram. "Oh, _sweetie!"_

Bertram ignored Wolfram and pelted into Efram's arms. _"Bite me!"_ he cried triumphantly. Efram met him demonic grin for grin.

"Yeah, we've met," said Wolfred. He rumpled the toddler's green-blond hair, a perfect match to Efram's. "We've also met," he said dryly, holding a hand out to shake with Shin-Wolfram.

Wolfram shook hands politely, embarrassed to remember exactly _how_ his grandfather had seen him before, and the idiotic things he and Hon-Wolfram were shouting at the time. He quickly shrugged that thought off, and tore Bertram from Efram's arms. "No, no, sweetie! Efram, how dare you teach my son to say, _'Bite me!'?_"

"Eh, get over yourself, vixen," said Efram. "It's cute. Isn't it, trickster?"

Bertram nodded emphatically, and demanded, _"Down!"_

"Not _'down'_! Last time I gave you _'down',_ you ran into another universe! Bad Wimpue!"

"Say _what?"_ blurted Yuuri, behind them.

"Well, it's all your fault, isn't it?" spat Wolfram. "Salix, how do we go home now, please?"

Salix blinked innocently at Yuuri instead of answering.

"Aha, Wolfram…" said Yuuri. "You see, Bertram has to stay here, just until this is all over…"

"_WHAT?"_ hissed Wolfram. Uncomfortable with his fathers fighting, Bertram wriggled to escape. Wolfram let him down without thinking, the better to plant his fists on his hips. "Of _course_ my baby is going home! I don't see any _other-_Bertram around here! How dare you bring Bertram here anyway! And stayed away _three days_ without letting me know! After dumping _twenty thousand alien in-laws_ on me! _Irresponsible idiot!"_

Time was, Yuuri the king would have taken this from Wolfram. Yes, even in front of foreign kings. Even during a national crisis. That time was past, however. _We have an agreement about this kind of public uproar, vicious vixen… _Slight arcs of blue lightning played in Yuuri's hair, snaking slightly in a static electric wind.

Aldrich – who'd had a number of _'little chats'_ with his stepson and vassal regarding _'conduct unbecoming'_ – cleared his throat loudly._ "Lord Wolfram, _as _His Majesty_ just said, Bertram needs to be here. _Other-_Bertram, is that man over there." He pointed to the shadowy figure in the trees, who made no move to come introduce himself. Indeed he shook his head once, _No._

Yuuri's eyes still narrowed at Wolfram, but blue fire and hair died down. "But _we _can go home," he said, taking Wolfram's elbow with false charm and some force. "I'm eager to see our _daughters._ And my parents…"

"But Bertram!"

"_Stays. Here._ Salix, I understand we need to leave in pairs? Other-Yuuri, Prince Wolfram? Would it be convenient for us to leave _now?_ I'd like to make good use of our twenty-four hours' leave, if I may."

"Sire," Shin-Gwendal objected, "this seems overly… trusting. I think we should stay and make our own plans here, instead of blindly following the nymphs' lead!"

This was an extremely valid point, but Yuuri wanted to leave. Therefore he sank to saying, "Mmm. Say, Gwendal…" He theatrically surveyed the people on the nymph hill. "If all of us are here… am I right in thinking that _Manfred_ now rules in Shin Makoku?"

Gwendal blanched, hands making unconscious grasping twitches.

Shin-Conrad's face lit up in amusement behind him. He put a hand on Gwendal's shoulder and commented, "Oh, Manfred's not so bad, right? He ruled Bielenfeld for a year. And Annissina's there. She'll help with the treasury."

"_Gah!"_ erupted from Gwendal, at the idea of the national wealth in his wife's hands. "I'll be along as quickly as possible." He turned and made a bee-line for his escapist twin, to negotiate leaving _now._ With very little success – other-Gwendal didn't want to talk to him, and kept turning his back to pretend he wasn't there.

One might have expected Salix to be swamped with other pairs, eager to return to the lives they'd been so rudely kidnapped from. But as Lord Erick had said, the reunions in the nymphy glade were compelling. Even the Yuuris, who had no trouble agreeing to leave, were further held up as their entourage dominoed. Young Dietrich and Efram left with Shin-Yuuri, at Aldrich's request, as the Aldrichs wished to stay and talk. The Günters left with them as well, for a very cranky King Wolfred demanded that he and Garena spend the day scouting the intended battle zone, along with Günter Lord Krist and Hon-Dietrich. Wolfred intended to keep Hon-Yuuri under his thumb as well, both to pick his brain and find out what the weaker king was good for. A much relieved Gwendal extracted Shin-Günter's promise to guard the treasury, until Gwendal could get home to save it from Manfred's spectacular bookkeeping anti-genius.

The Wolframs found it harder to get away.

-oOo-

"Wolfie!" cried the broken Hon-Cecilie, arms out, tears streaming down her face. The Wolframs, who were trying to leave, turned to her in consternation. But it was not they whom she addressed, but rather the toddler Bertram. Aside from the greenish tinge to his blond hair, and rather bluer green eyes, he did bear a striking resemblance to Wolfram as a baby.

Shin-Cecilie stood beside her alter-ego, trying to break through her near-catatonia with well-meant but inexpert kindness. She beckoned, "Bertram? Please come to me, darling? Cecilie, dear, this isn't Wolfram. He's my Wolfram's adopted baby, Bertram."

Not a word of this registered on Hon-Cecilie, with her baby in sight at last.

"Hahaue," breathed Shin-Wolfram, to Hon-Wolfram's irritation. The Prince tried to yank the Lord's arm back – _I'm going with Wolfred and Dietrich!_ – but Lord Wolfram wheeled on him. "She's your _mother! _Don't you _care?"_

Bertram moseyed over agreeably enough. But Hon-Cecilie pounced and grabbed him. "My _baby! Oh, my baby!"_ she wailed.

Bertram frantically wriggled to get away from her, which made her clutch him all the more desperately. _"DOWN Gamma!"_

Shin-Wolfram rushed to help his mother extract the struggling toddler from Hon-Cecilie's hysterical arms. The moment he was free, Bertram fled to Lord Aldrich for protection, sobbing, little head hiding under Aldrich's ear. Hon-Wolfram watched in deep unease as the others manhandled Hon-Cecilie to the ground. She hugged her knees and rocked, keening softly, eyes still glued on Bertram, brimming over with tears.

Lord Aldrich strode swiftly away, to get Bertram out of this mess. But he sent back his father, the greatest healer of Shin Makoku. Shin-Friedrich sank to the ground before the distraught tableau. "Ah, Great-niece, you've had a rough time of it," he said gently.

Hon-Cecilie, even in her madness, recognized him, and twisted away, hiding her face. "No, oh no, Great-uncle. No, don't look at me. I've failed so badly…"

"None of that, Niece, don't hide your face. So beautiful," he crooned softly, and gently coaxed her chin to face him. "Of all her many descendants, you look the most like my lovely sister Emeraude."

Shin-Cecilie smiled sadly in gratitude. The haunted Hon-Cecilie looked far less than she like their grandmother, the vivacious beauty Emeraude, tragically dead before they turned 70. Shin-Cecilie felt a sudden surprise surge of empathy for her Hon-self. More than once she'd felt that same humiliation, before her illustrious great-uncle, when she was Maou over him. "Oh, Friedrich," she breathed. "Can you help her?"

He nodded, smiling soft encouragement at Hon-Cecilie, yet replying to Shin-Cecilie. "We can lessen her pain," he said, quietly setting a realistic yardstick for progress. "You'll be willing to stay for some of your free day? The rules here seem to dictate that neither of a pair can leave unless both do. And I would like to spend some time with this dear woman."

"Of course," said Shin-Cecilie. "As long as she needs me. Or poor Conrad or Gwendal. Or… Bertram. Yes, I think I'll just stay here." She considered Prince Wolfram with green eyes half-lidded. She crooked a finger at her own Wolfram and sashayed away a bit, with several playful looks tossed back over her shoulder in challenge.

Shin-Wolfram made to follow, but Prince Wolfram grabbed his arm. "We're leaving _now,_ remember? If I don't go now, I'll never find the others scouting around the temple!"

Shin-Wolfram glared at him disparagingly. "I'm sure Salix can insert you back wherever you want. But I'm not done yet! Come meet my mother – _your _mother."

"A cheap whore, three sons by three fathers! I am _not_ my mother's son!"

Shin-Wolfram wheeled on him. "No, you're an _orphan! _Because you're certainly not my father's son! If you spoke of Hahaue like this in front of Chichiue - !" Words failed him to convey how Manfred would verbally carve him to the bone. "Chichiue would_ never _have condoned tearing me from Hahaue, or tearing Shin Makoku apart!"

This gave Hon-Wolfram pause. Though his father wasn't really the same as other-Wolfram's, he'd heard this before, from Aldrich. "Well, I was well rid of both of them, wasn't I? You had them both and look at you – a wimpy mommy bottom! You're more worried about your baby than the fate of the world! I'm a soldier, not a boy-toy!"

"_Wolfie," _ interrupted Cecilie, with a hand on each Wolfram's shoulder. She'd snuck up on them while they were entirely self-absorbed. "Everyone does the best they can with the strengths they have. The two of you are one person, having faced different problems. But for the grace of Shinou…" She looked compassionately toward Hon-Cecilie, presently rocking and whimpering in Friedrich's arms.

"Wasn't that interesting," she pointedly mused, "what Quercus said, about drawing on the strength of both sides of ourselves, to overcome a power formed from negative emotions… And that my Conrad and Gwendal would easily have bested their other selves in well-merging. But the two of you would have fought until you destroyed yourself. And ended up like _her,_ poor woman."

She met each Wolfram's eye with a pained maternal look, _I expect better from you, _and let go their shoulders. She wandered off toward the Conrads and Gwendals, with a little finger-wave to Lord Aldrich.

The Wolframs were still glaring at each other, considering their next pot-shots, when Aldrich joined them, handing off Bertram with a hungry wail of _'Chewwy!'_ "I think this little boy could use some quality time, Lord Wolfram. Prince Wolfram, I'd like to speak to you, if I may."

Shin-Wolfram exited the throng, to play with Bertram on the sweet grass. He cast a curious glance toward the shadowy _other-_Bertram in the trees, currently talking to the Kings Julius, Adeldan, and Franklin. He resolutely put that aside. His son's past lives were none of his business, until and unless Bertram himself told him, when he was bigger. It was a matter of honor.

-oOo-

Aldrich – professor of unconditional love, and the third greatest healer in Shin Makoku after his father and husband – sat with Prince Wolfram. And told him a tale of how _Shinou, _via a raping gang of Mizrati marauders, caused a proud and haughty blond knight to put away the command of cavalry, and become a _'mommy bottom'_. And of how quietly proud his father Manfred was of Wolfram, for being the canny political advisor and loyal husband to the Maou, the force behind the throne. He was a devoted father to his children, and now taking after his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, providing national leadership in public health and welfare. And how proud Manfred had been of how Wolfram stood by his mother, even during her fall from power as Maou.

These were things Prince Wolfram could easily have known from their contacts, had he been interested in anything beyond besting Lord Wolfram. But this mirror version of his liege lord and foster father, with pure love and pure sales genius, got him to listen. And to see that indeed, there but for the crimes of Shinou, walked _himself_. And that perhaps this victim of Shinou's manipulations, from rising to different challenges, had strengths that complemented his own.

"But I'm still in love with Dietrich, not the Pretender Maou," the Prince objected. "Does that mean _he_ fights to save _my_ world, instead of _me?_ That's outrageous!"

Aldrich shrugged. "We'll have to figure that out. But probably our Yuuri Maou, not yours, will face Soushu. I'm not going to ask whether you could love our Yuuri yet. But could you at least see how our Wolfram would?" This was clearly a rhetorical question. Lord Aldrich rose and brushed grass from his perennial Bielenfeld blue pants with gold piping. He really did look better in his counterpart's dove grey. Indeed, given the dissolute traces of other-Aldrich's centuries of hard drinking, Aldrich looked far better in dove greys than Aldrich Maou did.

"And you, Lord Aldrich?" the Prince asked. "Will it be you or my foster father, to face Soushu?"

Aldrich smiled wanly, and replied, "He's Maou. I'm a _'mommy bottom'_, as you put it."

But he didn't meet Wolfram's eye as he said it. As the Lord walked away, it belatedly occurred to the Prince to wonder what this _other-_Aldrich's trials had been. But of course, _his_ Aldrich was Maou, and thus _obviously_ stronger. _Except… for the drinking… _He watched Aldrich walk over and embrace Hon-Friedrich. After conferring a bit, the two collected King Franklin, and then Aldrich Maou, and drew him into the woods. _Perhaps they're concerned about the Maou's drinking, too._

_My father. If other-me agreed, we could swap worlds, and __**I**__ could meet my father, even if Grandfather can't. _His roving eye came to rest uncomfortably on Shin-Cecilie, talking to the hostile Hon-Conrad, the half-breed turncoat who led Suberian forces against Mazoku. The Prince cast his eyes down in chagrin. _You're willing to face a shadow of your dead father, but not your own mother and brothers? They've already told you what your father would think of you for that – wimp!_

_Alright, then. Maybe later in the week. We should swap worlds, anyway. Otherwise, it might not be so easy for him to work side by side with Duke Axel, given the way Aldrich says his Axel died for him. _In his well, the Prince had a casual roll in the hay with the Duke a few times, as had Wolfred, but Axel was the Maou's lover these days, while Lady Glynda turned a blind eye._ Other-me will clearly have to be the one to go 'give his heart' for Yuuri – _Prince Wolfram started to snort in derision at that idea, but recalled something else Aldrich had said. _Fracture lines on his psyche… heroic self-destruction… Could Yuuri keep fighting and win, if he lost his Wolfram?_ In discomfort, he found that he cared, not just for the success of the mission, but for the welfare of Lord Wolfram and the Yuuris.

_But is there any choice? Could I give my heart to the man my other self loves?_

Before, he'd wanted to fight for his reality as a matter of haughty pride. Now, though, he considered whether perhaps, in the end, it might be the only way to win.

It wasn't easy, but he swallowed his pride enough to tell Shin-Wolfram his thoughts and concerns. He asked that they work together to make _both_ of them as best able as they could, for _either_ of them to face Soushu at Yuuri's side. And with that, the two Wolframs began to pull together.

Granted, they continued to bicker every step of the way.

-oOo-

_"CHICHIUE!"_

Aldrich materialized in the Blood Pledge dining room just before supper, with barely time to give Manfred a quick peck on the cheek before Dietrich, Trenton, and Efram mobbed him. He hugged them, but spoke to Yuuri first. "Sire, Wolfram hopes to be home in time to visit with Greta and Ekaterin before bed." He didn't mention their foster daughter Frieda. She was on her father's lap, listening rapt to an episode from Adelbert's childhood, involving her grandfather Adeldan. Aldrich smiled – he'd barely heard Adelbert speak of his father since the man walked out on them.

Yuuri followed his glance and smiled understanding. Then he curled up one lip. "Wolfram just couldn't leave Bertram, hm?" He unconsciously clutched infant Ekaterin closer – he was starting to get very unhappy over Wolfram's continued Bertram-centricity.

"Well, that too," allowed Aldrich. "But he's mending fences with Prince Wolfram and his brothers and mother. Conrad and Gwendal and Cecilie may not be back tonight at all."

Yuuri nodded thoughtfully. "Well begun, then." And he turned back to chatting with his brother and parents, as Aldrich finally turned his attention to the boys.

"Hello, hello! Oh, it's so good to see you guys! Trent – your father went back to Gratz tonight, but he sends his love, and if he has time tomorrow, he'll come visit you here. Diet, Efram, I was proud of you this morning! But enough of that," he dismissed the well of two nymphs, and facing Soushu, with an airy wave. "What's been happening _here_ while I've been gone? Manfred taking good care of you?"

Dietrich: "He's been wonderful! We helped with Moxy and Foxy!"

Trenton: "You shoulda seen Manfred's face when he realized _he_ was Chancellor of Shin Makoku!"

Efram: "Man's _desperately_ in need of a blow job."

Manfred, white, started rising from his couch. _"Eff-ramm…"_

Aldrich waved him down. "Oh, relax, Manfred, you've had the boys for days! I've got this one." And indeed he had Efram, by the scruff of the neck, with a nerve pinch. Dietrich turned his back on them, shoulders heaving. Trenton's crossed arms and belligerant stance, one foot and hip tilted toward the opponent Efram, looked delightfully like his pissed-off father Brendan in miniature. "Trent? Is there something you'd like to say to Efram?"

"Hey, I'm –" Efram attempted. Increased pressure on his neck shut him up.

Trenton jerked a chin at Dietrich. "Dietrich thinks –"

"Trenton speaks for Trenton…" Aldrich gently reminded.

"Alright,_**I**_ think Efram's way out of line! How dare you speak of your father like that?! In the _Maou's_ dining room, no less! I'm sick and tired of Efram getting all the attention for being _bad!_ Dietrich and I were _good!_ We _helped_ Manfred! We played with the twins so Manfred could work! We taught the refugee kids our language! _We_ should be getting the attention! I think _**we'd**_ make better Heads of the Horde! Efram, your conduct is unbefitting an Aristocrat!"

"I –" attempted Efram.

"Thank you, Trenton, excellent points," interrupted Aldrich. "Dietrich, are you ready to speak to Efram?"

Dietrich first shook his head, but then reluctantly turned to face them, posture erect. "Efram, what Trenton said. But more… You don't treat us like people you love and respect. You embarrassed Manfred. You taught Bertram to say… something bad. It'll be really hard for Wolfram to make him stop saying that. I was really excited when you came to live with us. I really looked up to you, and wanted you to be my big brother. But you don't treat us like brothers. Now sometimes I wish you lived with your mother instead. Manfred's a _wonderful_ father, and a true noble demon. I'm lucky to have him as a stepfather. But you… You're not noble. You're a… clown."

_That landed,_ Aldrich decided. Efram looked like he'd been punched in the solar plexus. Everyone else in the room was staring at him, eyes wide. "Efram? Now it's your turn," Aldrich prompted.

"I… oy… I'm sorry. I was just trying to be funny, and the joke came out too rough. Um." He looked at Aldrich, biting his lip.

Aldrich raised three fingers, and pointed the first one at Manfred.

"Right. Chichiue, I'm sorry, my joke was inappropriate. What I really meant was, um, you were pretty stressed out and you'd be glad to have Aldrich home." He turned beet red, picturing how graphically he'd conveyed that point. "You were a great father and a great lord, even when you were saddled with a public health crisis, then Aldrich's job on top of yours, and then Gwendal's job on top of _that, _all while you were worried sick. And I respect you, and I love you, and, um…"

"And your jibe would have been fine in different company," said Manfred, having cooled off. "You're right, I've been stressed out. I hope I haven't taken it out on you. Apology accepted."

The _'squirts'_ were a much harder sell apology-wise. The negotiated surrender involved _them_ teaching_ him_ Lord's Lesson tonight, on Noble Comportment. Though not how he'd hoped to spend the evening, it could have been far worse.

-oOo-

"Stop… _ah!..._ Manfred, stop, I can't… take any more of this," objected Aldrich, somewhat half-heartedly. They were making love in their suite to while away some time until the twins needed their midnight bottles.

"I'll heal you up a bit first, then, shall I?" Manfred murmured in his ear. "And… you make love to _me_ this time."

Aldrich arched an eyebrow at that. True, they traded roles now and then. But during the comfort lovemaking of a reunion under stress, was hardly the time. Besides, by this point, with fresh seeds started in his sinuses, after lovemaking round two, Aldrich felt as aggressive as a warm puddle. _Not tempting at all. _"I didn't mean… _ah! stop!_… lovemaking, Manfred." He roused enough to flip over and wrestle Manfred flat, then collapsed on top of him. "I can take all the lovemaking you can dish out! I _mean,_ we need to_ talk."_

"Talking is over-rated." Manfred turned his head away, cheek to the pillow.

Aldrich hauled himself onto his elbows and took Manfred's face between his hands. He kissed with a feather touch, lips barely pressing his. "Manfred, I'm melted. But you're still wound tighter than a violin. Talk to me, love."

No answer.

"I wanted to thank you. For making love to me while Aldrich Maou was in my body –" He paused as Manfred went stiff as a board. _As I suspected. _"You reached me, you know," he whispered. "I was busy talking to the kings, but… I felt it, your love. You were making love to _me."_

Manfred squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched. Aldrich shut up and waited. Manfred was quick on his tongue, at verbal jousting. Emotional honesty took longer. "I'm sorry," Manfred whispered. "I broke our… And… Glynda? That must have been…"

"I was never alone with Glynda, Manfred," Aldrich whispered. "Nor wanted to be." Rather than looking relieved, Manfred's face crumpled with a sob, and a tear squeezed out of clenched eyes. "Manfred, our vows are intact. Our monogamy vows."

Manfred cracked a sad green eye at him. _Yeah, how do you figure __**that?**_

"I never told you this. I dunno, maybe I felt it was too… pushy. That it would be manipulative, or asking too much, or… Manfred, since we got together ninety years ago… Yeah, I made love to Glynda to create Dietrich. But, other than that, there's been no one but you. And this… he is me, Manfred. At first, you notice he's different, but… he's not. Efram and Wolfred, yeah, of course they're separate people. But not other-Aldrich and me. To age 90, fully adult, we were one person. You made love to _my_ body. _My_ soul. Your touch reached across realities to _me._ I don't know if that makes any rational sense. But, that you were willing to vow monogamy to me, and finally able to accept it from me… Manfred, that means the world to me, that you gave yourself wholly to me. _Thank you."_

"You're not just… _rephrasing_ reality? Political spin?"

Aldrich chuckled. Then laid forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and touched lips in another feather kiss. "No." Still holding Manfred's face, he gave him a light touch of his true healing fire. Manfred stiffened even more at first – he always did. A man so self-critical, perfectionist, he might never accept pure unconditional love with ease. But then Manfred suddenly unclenched, and let it in. "I love you," Aldrich whispered, words utterly redundant to the direct experience.

"I love you," Manfred agreed.

After a few minutes basking in love, however, Manfred frowned, and complained, "This is utterly unnatural, you know. _You_ go off to fight an epic battle, and _I _stay home to mind the kids? And do –_**politics?**_ I don't approve of this role reversal _at all,_ my Lord Aldrich! _You_ talk and do the mommy thing. _I _do danger and killing people. Please tell me that _other-_Aldrich is going to face Soushu in battle, not _you._ And for Shinou's sake, Aldrich, if someone comes at you in a berserker rage, swinging a sword – _don't try to __**talk**__ them out of it, just __**kill**__ them._ _**Promise**_ me. I swear, you'd try to talk your way out of a _blizzard!"_

Aldrich had rolled over beside him laughing, but objected at that. _"No!_ Oh, wait –I did talk us out of a blizzard last winter, didn't I? Hey, it _worked!"_

"From which, no doubt, you _learned the wrong lesson, _my liege!"

When their laughter died down to the occasional chuckle, Manfred tweaked the duck tail on Aldrich's recent short haircut. "The Maou faces Soushu. Not you. Right?"

"He is Maou, after all," Aldrich replied. But they knew it wasn't really an answer. And of that, they spoke no further.

Aldrich did have to prove he could take all the lovemaking Manfred could dish out, however.

-oOo-

"You're awfully quiet," said Yuuri, feeding Ekaterin her midnight bottle.

Wolfram had returned late, and then talked long with Greta, before joining him. Now he stretched in an old pink nightgown, worn thin and soft over the years, propped on an elbow to watch Yuuri and the newborn. The howling lash of rain at the windows continued unabated, even stronger than this morning. It made the candles gutter and dance, despite their bedroom being fairly snug, for a room in a stone castle. The fullness of the day made it seem incredible that Wolfram had woken just this morning alone with Ekaterin. He hardly felt the same person. Perhaps he wasn't.

Wolfram bit his lip slightly, an effect Yuuri loved, as it accented those lips' tender pink kissability. "I'm sorry, Yuuri. Overload." He reached a hesitant fingertip to touch Ekaterin, brow and nose, ear and chin. He spoke in a low throaty whisper, the voice Yuuri recognized as pure vulnerability. "Yuuri… We haven't been alone since I… Is it… I don't think it's… cheating on you. I did, at first. Well, you cheating on me, I thought, but, it wasn't, was it. Prince Wolfram is me –"

"Agreed," Yuuri said, to cut off that line of worry. "How did you two get on after I left, anyway?"

"He's so _arrogant!"_ At Yuuri's snort of amusement, Wolfram chuckled and dropped his head. "Well, we're pulling together now. He almost sounded like me, talking to Conrad and Gwendal at the end. Hahaue… will take longer. But she's really patient and respectful with him. Loving. My Hahaue, anyway. Other-Friedrich is making slow progress with… other-Cecilie. She doesn't know us yet."

_And we dance, and circle around the point. We weave closer, then skitter away. _Yuuri risked venturing closer. "It was almost like making love to the Wolfram I first met. And at the same time, the Yuuri I'd been when we first met, was making love to the Wolfram you've become." Yuuri was encouraged when this gambit didn't result in immediate bodily assault.

"We… talked. About facing Soushu. He's afraid that I can't… We decided that we're both going to try, to be the one who can stand by you, to provide the heart key. He thinks he could… maybe love you, too. So long as he doesn't have to stop loving Dietrich. I want to stand beside you. But maybe…"

"It might be easier for me to stand beside him, you know," Yuuri said softly. "To have you and the children safe away from the battle."

But they wouldn't be safe. No one was. Ekaterin finished her bottle, and they made love. Lately Yuuri had been quite emphatic about not creating any more seeds. He feared Wolfram would raise a dozen children or more if Yuuri didn't put firm limits on Wolfram's baby acquisitiveness. But tonight, they started seeds, without discussion. Even if they only grew into trees, they were a declaration of hope and intent. Their parents would make sure the world was safe for them to grow in.

-oOo-

_Switzerland, Well Forsaken by the Angels_

Tariel quietly buried the Maou Bob and his loyal assistant Stella Krebs, beneath the tree that formed the gateway between the worlds and channeled healing life maryoku into the fracturing ecosystems of Earth. The glass tower of DTI's global headquarters was shattered, shards of glass and broken furniture strewn everywhere on the grassy hill by the lake. The tower's steel girders stood twisted and broken against the stormy night sky, tortured by one of nearly a hundred freak tornados that had ravaged Europe. The Atlantic had become a cauldron of hurricanes, spinning massive thunderstorms and worse far inland. Earth's disastrous, insane weather patterns were quieting again now, with Quercus wielding the power of ocean to heal, instead of lash out. But even in the few days since the Mazoku evacuation, the death toll had been staggering.

_I'm sorry. I should have woken Yuuri sooner._ Tariel's soundless tears fell with the rain onto the slight burial mound. He wore his physical form, to honor their physical passing.

Tariel had made no effort to contact Quercus. He'd essentially snuck out on the convocation of great nymphs. But a tendril of Quercus' attention followed him, anyway. _Caring for the fall of a sparrow, Tariel? Yuuri did need the sleep. And Bob and Stella made this choice._

_Choice? How is it free will, a choice, when they can't foresee the consequences. They don't know what they're choosing. The good they sought to do, they had no chance to accomplish._

_They knew the risk, Tariel. You disparage their courage by thinking otherwise. And where they are now, they know. Nothing is ever truly lost. _

Tariel knew that. But perhaps he'd become too close to the mortals. He grieved at their passing. In the long millenia with no other nymphs to communicate with, perhaps he became too like them, to soothe his aloneness.

_This is how angels fall, isn't it, Quercus. The great ones don't cast us down. We fall ourselves._

_And if you fall of yourself, Tariel, then you can also pick yourself up again._

_It's never been done. I'm doomed._

_You are alone in this? I plotted the past four thousand years, partnered with Shinou, without coming to care for mortals? Doomed, yes, Tariel. We are both doomed to become much greater than we were, by caring, yet remaining nymph. Deal – I won't fall if you don't._

_You make fun of me! Fall! You've risen to greatest nymph of all!_

_These facts are not unrelated._

-oOo-

_Please review? I gets discouraged when I don't get reviews. T.T_


	12. Brother, Brother

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

AN: _Hey, my Friedrich fan is back! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Sorry for the slow chapter. I don't have any particularly good excuse. I did try to warn you that this was going to be hard to write, unless I fast-forwarded past the battle… _

**Chapter 12 – Brother, Brother**

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

"Welcome back!" Quercus boomed warmly. The group was assembled again on the flowering hill between worlds. Whatever nymphy secret rites of power they might have been up to, he and Tariel looked no different than they had the day before.

"Tariel has told me of your Maous' plans – brilliant! The great nymphs will do all in our power to aid you. I shall hand you over to your own _highly_ capable leaders to explain," he bowed to the Aldrichs and Yuuris front and center, "and to begin the day's preparations. We confront Soushu in four days' time. Maybe three."

Most of the audience gazed rather crossly at the Yuuris and Aldrichs, who hadn't mentioned their plans. The Friedrichs, though, seemed to be scanning the crowd for someone. And young Dietrich yanked at his father's hand and urgently whispered in his ear. Aldrich shook his head and pointed to Quercus.

The boy gulped, but stepped forward bravely. "Excuse me, Quercus sir. But – yesterday, didn't you say five days from now?"

"Yes, well, just an estimate. The other great nymphs project months, even years, until the situation reaches crisis. But they haven't taken everything into account."

"But Quercus sir? I thought nymphs could read the future."

Quercus laughed. "Ah, such powers have their limits, Dietrich. Within one well, provided no other nymphs assert their will, then, yes. Though, we not so much _read _ the future, as _choose_ the future. But in the present matter, I've only been able to cut the problem down to three wells – four including this one – and _certain_ nymphs, including myself," he grinned broadly at Tariel and Salix, "have proved rather willful."

Quercus suddenly grew solemn. "The nymphs slept while humans and demons matured, especially on Yuuri's homeworld. In Ponderosa and her faction's projections, they considered only the well of the five kings, in isolation. We do not intervene in the well abandoned by the nymphs – Yuuri's homeworld. So the other nymphs neglected to consider that Soushu still feeds upon the fear-based emotions generated there. And that Soushu had the power to vastly accelerate that fear, and no qualms about interfering." At the last, Quercus seemed to be speaking to himself.

Yuuri's fists clenched, and his face grew white. "Quercus, what has happened on Earth. Tell me."

"More of the same," Quercus attempted to wave this off.

But Tariel spoke up. "Yuuri, the oceans raged out of control for three days after you left, until Quercus wrested their power from Soushu. The world has never seen such storms. Many millions died. Whole nations are under water – all contaminated, undrinkable. Transportation destroyed. Communications destroyed. No food. Many more millions will die. Bob, Stella, your friends who stayed behind. All dead. Lots of fear."

Yuuri and Wolfram, and all the others who'd worked in the heroic evacuation of the demon tribe of Earth, stared at Tariel, stunned.

"Then it did no good?" Salix asked. "Only twenty thousand saved. Too little to matter."

"Not so, little friend," said Quercus. "One courageous mortal cancels out the power of ten thousand who succumb to fear. It mattered."

"Exaggeration?" inquired King Julius. "You've just said twenty thousand would cancel out the fear of two hundred _millions!_ Then, surely –"

"Six billion," Yuuri clarified. "There are six _billion_ people on Earth."

King Julius boggled, but Quercus nodded agreement. "Now Soushu cannot instigate any more havoc. Pain and suffering, alas, still cross wells and fuel him. I'm still looking for a way to stem that tide. Fortunately, in the wells of the one and five kings, the general level of well-being is quite high. Especially in the well of the one king - peace, prosperity, and kindness run rampant. And the generosity of those who aided the Earth refugees, also helps cancel out the fear-based emotions from Earth."

"Thank you," said Yuuri, firmly. "Thank you, Quercus, for all you've done to help my birth world." Quercus bowed affably, and vanished. "But now let's concentrate on the task before us, in the well of the five kings."

Aldrich Maou laid out the plan that he and Lord Aldrich and Hon-Yuuri had devised with Tariel and Salix, while Shin-Yuuri recuperated from the evacuation of Earth. There were essentially four rings to this plan. First, the barrier the contained the roiling purple-black hell that was Soushu, centered on Shinou's temple, must be released. The five kings, plus the priestess Ilya von Trondheim, must do this, as it was they who erected the barrier. Should this barrier fail before they were ready, well, then they would all be immediately transported into position by the nymphs, and have to carry out the plan from the next step. Once the barrier was down, the expedition would all move inside the battle zone, with the barrier replaced by a living quarantine of great nymph. Once established, no one could cross that nymphwall, especially not into another well, lest Soushu escape. His only escape would be non-existence, or to create a new reality, and enter it alone, with no further access to the realities of others.

Within this outer ring of the battle zone, the expedition would form three more rings, each responsible for the physical defense of the next inner ring. Working inward, the strength of each ring must be established before the next could proceed. The innermost ring would be Murata, Yuuri, and the three other keys – Gwendal, Conrad, and Wolfram – with the fourth box, to unleash Soushu completely. Then these would fall back to the second ring, and the three other Maous – Aldrich, Cecilie, and Shinou – would join Yuuri to battle Soushu directly.

Of each pair gathered here in the well of the two nymphs, only one would participate physically in the battle in the well of the five kings. The other must wait in the well of the one king. But each could draw on the strength of the other, to the limit of their attunement.

The task before them in the next few days was to heal any discord between these sides of themselves, to maximize their combined strength. And for some pairs, it was not yet clear which would be in the battle, and which would serve as backup. But for all, remember – Soushu fed upon negative emotions. So if there was any strife among them, their most important task was to heal it now. Unconditional love, courage, bravery, were their strongest weapons. Resentment, anger, or fear would be their undoing.

Lord Aldrich stepped forward. "Aldrich Maou and I will be coordinating here, for the most part, although we too will leave at night. The Yuuri Maous will more often be in the worlds. You're free to come and go. Both of a pair must travel at the same time, but you can make multiple trips in the same day. We'll meet here as a group each evening, starting today. I'm in charge of staffing, so I'll be speaking with each of you about your preparations."

Aldrich's first catch of the day was the Wolframs, while Shin-Yuuri took the floor to make encouraging remarks. Aldrich dispatched Shin-Wolfram to meet with Hon Duke Axel, and Hon-Wolfram to meet Shin-Manfred. He told them they had to go immediately, because he needed them back by noon, to work with their mothers and brothers. Salix came up and sent them before they had a chance to argue.

At which point, Shinou cast aside his cowl and mantle in the shadow of the magnolia trees, and bounded forward to join the Yuuris and Aldrich Maou. He grabbed Bertram along the way, and tossed him up in the air, to peals of giggles. "Greetings, everyone!" he boomed to the crowd. "I am Shinou. Can you help me keep a secret? This little guy's _'Chewy'_ doesn't know Bertram is my reincarnation! So the truth is, I'm here like all the rest of you, in two mortal halves. The moment Bertram and I leave, this well will cease to exist. _But don't tell Wolfram!"_

Wolfram never did meet Bertram's _other_ from the well of the five kings. But everyone else said they had. And of course Shinou was _Shinou._ It never occurred to Wolfram that the normal rules might apply to _him._

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

"Axel," breathed Shin-Wolfram, heart pounding. "Paol. Robair." He'd materialized inside the run-down garrison at Blood Pledge. Apparently yesterday King Wolfred and Hon-Yuuri had commandeered it to get Duke Axel's forces out of the worsening storm on the mountainside by Shinou's Temple. The gorgeous blond youths were still quite damp.

"Hello, hello!" greeted Axel. "Ah! You're not… You're the other one, huh?" As always, the wide affable hazel eyes appraised him openly, warmly. "Well, welcome! Uh, Wolfram? Are you alright?"

For Wolfram clapped a hand over his mouth. His knees gave out, and he crumpled to the muddy floor, shaking and sobbing. "You… all… _died, _in my reality, under my command…"

Eventually, he told them the whole story, of how he'd become their officer, and how he and Paol and Robair had been taken and gang-raped by the Mizrati. They'd died, begging for death, beside him. Then Axel had gone berserk killing Mizrati when he'd finally found them. And now Wolfram was forbidden to lead men in battle because, no matter what he _ought_ to do, he kept leaning toward _'heroic self-destruction'. _The guilt of having survived his men, his best friends, was overwhelming.

But these young men were fine. They listened sympathetically, and before too long, Wolfram's tears were spent, and they laughingly compared life stories. They especially supplied him with tales of stunning acts of idiocy in Prince Wolfram's past.

Before the end, Wolfram got some time alone with Axel. "I don't think he – you – ever knew you were the Duke of Abercrombie's son. And I… I never told him I loved him."

Axel grinned and slapped a big hand on his shoulder. "He knew, Wolfram. I'm sure of it. And I'm sure he loved you, too."

And looking into those warm hazel eyes, that broad affable smile, it was not just a theory, not just words. Wolfram knew what he said was true. It defied all logic, that Hon-Axel could absolve him of the way he'd let down Shin-Axel. Nevertheless, Wolfram finally felt a cold deadened scar on his heart, finally begin to heal, after eight years of holding Axel's death against himself. And as for Paol and Robair… _I was guilty of no more than wanting to survive that ordeal. They didn't want to._ Strange how he'd never really seen that before.

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

Prince Wolfram wandered down a hall, in a strangely resplendant Blood Pledge Castle. He was mentally grumbling, _As though I'd even know what my father looked like. _Then he spotted Manfred in Gwendal's office, and recognized him instantly. _It's like looking in a mirror!_

"Pretty vixen, back already?" Manfred greeted him absently, frowning at a sheaf of paperwork in his hand, dangling Bielenfeld seals. "Gwen coming back, too? He'll be _delighted_ to hear I've managed to screw up the treasury already. Bielenfeld's too, somehow."

"_'Pretty vixen?'_" parroted Prince Wolfram, aghast.

Manfred looked up, puzzled. Then his mouth formed an _'O'_ of realization. "Ah. You're the _other_ one." They regarded each other a moment. "Is there something I can do for you? _'Prince'_ Wolfram? Please, have a seat."

"I'm supposed to…" Wolfram stopped. Actually, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do, but… "I always wished I'd gotten to know you," he admitted, sinking into a chair. "Though you're not really_ him,_ I guess."

Manfred nodded thoughtfully. "I can relate. I wish I'd gotten to know Wolfred better. He died when I was only 30. Barely knew him. He was always off in the army."

"He's really cut up that he can't come see you," Wolfram offered. "He had a huge fight with Garena about keeping you a secret."

Manfred scowled. "I'd like to pound Garena as well. I didn't know he was my father until a couple years ago. _However._ Hm. Well, I gather I'm not really much like the father you lost. Sounds like some kind of flower child _pansy,_ actually. Though I guess I _was_ him, as a little kid." He tapped the missive from Bielenfeld thoughtfully with a finger. "_So._ You any good with the Treasury?"

Prince Wolfram was taken aback. "Well, of _course. _I'm heir to _Bielenfeld."_

"Good. Somehow Lord Howard says the supplies I gave to Shin Makoku, overspent my estimate by three orders of magnitude. Could you…?"

After a few minutes perusing the documents, Prince Wolfram was laughing out loud. "Chichiue, you sold the Maou our strategic medical supplies, for the same price per pound as _potatoes."_

"Oh." Manfred met his eye with a knowing glint, in a beautiful evil green-eyed demon smile. "Guess Aldrich'll be mad at me, too, then, huh?"

Father and son worked side by side the rest of the morning, on both Gwendal's work, and public health and welfare. Trenton and Greta brought newborn Avram and Margritte in for a visit, and other officers and assorted lords and ladies dropped by. Time flew. Soon Prince Wolfram pushed back some papers, and gazed at the clock. He had only a few minutes left. But he was tongue-tied.

Manfred said, "I suppose the expected thing to say, is that he'd've been proud of you, Wolfram. But, I expect what he'd _really_ say was, _'I love you, and I'm behind you, no matter what.'_ Especially on the days he _wasn't_ overly proud of you… just kidding. It's not for anyone else to be proud of you, son. Do your best, and _make_ yourself proud of _yourself,_ alright?" He stood and offered his hand to shake. And then a nymph did come to carry Prince Wolfram away.

It was a good meeting. Self-consciously talking, and comparing their life stories, would have been awkward and sterile. But by working side by side, and interacting with the people who wandered by, they'd both relaxed and come to know each other, not by how they spoke of themselves, but by how they faced the world, as men and Aristocrats. And some of the difficult questions got answered casually along the way, without fuss. Prince Wolfram returned to the nymph well somehow calmer and more relaxed than he'd felt in a long while.

_It's true, what other-Wolfram said. This man would have defied even Grandfather, to save Cecilie. Because she was my mother, and Maou of Shin Makoku. He would never have abandoned her to the consequences of her own actions. Huh._

-oOo-

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

Soon after the Wolframs left, Lord Aldrich squatted next to his father, talking again with the broken Hon-Cecilie, Shin-Cecilie beside her. Aldrich handed over three vials of fountain water, from Shinou's temples near Blood Pledge and Castle Bielenfeld, and Vladimir's fountain in Trond Hall. "From Manfred. Worth a try," he suggested.

Last winter, they'd realized that the religious rite of baptizing infants into the service of Shinou, healed their _souls _of damage caused when Shinou sealed Soushu. Originally, they'd thought that each soul needed treatment by only one of the two old Shinou fountains, or the new Vladimir fountain in Trond Hall. But Wolfram's research this past year suggested otherwise. Some souls benefitted from the waters of multiple fountains.

Friedrich frowned. "Our Cecilie was baptized at Shinou's temple. I attended her presentation, long before the wells diverged."

Aldrich nodded. "But also at the Bielenfeld temple, at Wolfred's funeral. I saw her there, sobbing on Hugh Lord Walde's shoulder. Manfred was playing in the fountain with little Gwendal. One of the guards came and fetched me, because he thought it was too much for Manfred that day. And in our well, Ilya was experimenting at Shinou's temple another eighty years. She may have sprinkled something on Cecilie and Gwen. It can't hurt to try."

Friedrich sighed. "I'm not so sure of that. To wake up after so long, and see what damage her escapism has caused… You _know_ that, son."

Yes, Aldrich knew that from personal experience, climbing his way out of a bottle. Nevertheless. "She is _Maou,_ father," Aldrich said. In his eyes, a Maou had no right to duck out of a crisis like this, in order to avoid emotional pain. But he backed off a bit, tactically. "Try the fountain waters on Hon-Gwen first, then. But even if it doesn't work on him, it might still help Cecilie."

"And Conrad," Shin-Cecilie offered. "Manfred let him hold Wolfie at his Bielenfeld baptism, in our world. I'll go get them."

When they returned, Friedrich anointed Hon-Gwendal first. The Chancellor's eyes focused on Shin-Gwendal, in a frown, then the Conrads. "You are my… younger brother…" Until then, he hadn't acknowledged the Conrads.

"I'm no kin of yours, demon!" spat Hon-Conrad, suspended between Hon-Brendan and Adelbert. Friedrich dosed him, too, with the three fountain waters. At the first drop from the Bielenfeld fountain, Hon-Conrad crumpled to the ground, gasping out dry heaves.

Shin-Gwendal twitched in discomfort, but then pushed Hon-Brendan away gently, and took Hon-Conrad's arm from him. "It's alright, younger brother," he said. "You're among friends."

Hon-Gwendal looked even more unsure, but nodded to Hon-Adelbert and supplanted him. "I'm sorry… I should never have let Stoeffel send you away. I should have gone after you. I should have found you and brought you home, when I heard that Dan Hiri Weller died." And soon four brothers were in each others' arms.

Shin-Cecilie started to go to them, but Aldrich held her back. "Give them some time with each other first," he said. "Their mother… is harder."

Friedrich agreed. "Let's do this with Cecilie in the woods, just the three of us, dear." And he drew the Cecilies away.

Not long after, a blood-curdling scream rocked the hill, as Hon-Cecilie awoke from her long, long nightmare.

-oOo-

"Hey! You, boy!" King Adeldan waylaid Efram. "I understand you _killed_ me in your world? How in hell'd you do that?" His deep bass voice was more gruff than angry, but the King of mountainous Gratz was a mountain himself – inches taller than his son Adelbert, and broader as well. Compact young Efram quailed before him.

King Wolfred strode up briskly and clasped Efram around the shoulders. "Hey, 'Dan, terrify children, why dontcha? It's alright, Efram, but we all _do_ want to know."

Indeed, a number of people had gathered, including all five Kings, plus the deeply, murderously intrigued Günter Lord Krist. His flightier other-Günter whispered in his ear. He finally earned some stature in Lord Krist's eyes, with the tale of how a handful of them stood with Efram, against Adeldan and a troop of trolls – and _won._

Lord Aldrich strode over and butted in. "Family secret," he insisted to Efram.

"I'm family," said Wolfred. "So's 'Dan." Adeldan von Gratz was married to Friedrich von Bielenfeld's half-sister Sophie. And Adeldan and Wolfred had cross-fostered their sons. "Talk, Efram."

"Ah…" stammered Efram.

Shin-Murata Ken – who'd been sort-of renewing acquaintance with King Franklin of Hon-Trondheim – spoke up. "I think it's alright, Lord Bielenfeld. I've been thinking how to modify that spell –" Murata flinched under Aldrich's lopsided _make-my-day_ smile, at this reminder that Murata had tricked Efram into telling him that spell in the first place. But he pressed on. "I think we can use it against Soushu. Or at least his puppets."

Murata drew Efram aside – the Günters tagged along unasked – and sketched the modifications. Efram nodded, more and more firmly as Murata went on. Shin-Günter also looked enlightened and impressed. Clearly the Maou's injunctions hadn't prevented Günter from trying, ever since that fatal day on the Fens, to figure out just how his ancestor Igor von Krist's book had encoded that stunning anti-troll spell.

Efram turned back and said, "I think it'll work, Chichiue Aldrich." Wolfred's eyes blazed briefly at his grandson addressing Aldrich so, but Efram missed it. "It's really dangerous to test, though. And… _I'm_ not going to be in the battle. Am I?"

"No," Lord Aldrich agreed emphatically. "You'd teach Wolfred,_ if, _and _only if, _we're convinced the spell is safe." Efram looked at Wolfred, unsure. "Just tell him everything, Efram. And tell _King Franklin_ as well. On your head be it, Murata."

Murata gulped. The group moved aside to speak privately. Aldrich Maou asserted his prerogative to join in and, with Franklin, make the final call. Not one to sit still, soon King Wolfred was prowling around the group, listening with one ear while rehearsing spells and battle footwork. He trained his reflexes to deliver destruction in action, drilling them right down into his muscular memory.

Efram needn't have worried about supplanting Wolfred in the showdown. Knowing a spell was only a very small part of the ability, in the midst of murderous chaos, to make the spell _count._ And no one was better than Wolfred at _that._

-oOo-

When the Wolframs returned, Lord Aldrich was waiting for them, Bertram in his arms. "_Chew_-y!" said Bertram, with a radiantly angelic baby smile, arms out.

"Oh, _sweet_ trickster!" crooned Wolfram. He took the baby and returned his hug and smooch. "Oh, I missed you, I missed you!" Bertram chuckled and kissed him some more.

Aldrich smiled. "Lord Wolfram, if you could, I'd like you to join your older brothers, and get to know their Hon-selves. Bring Bertram along, and make a picnic lunch out of it."

Wolfram stiffened at the thought of confronting the odd Hon-Gwendal and hostile Hon-Conrad with a baby in his arms. But as he looked around, the Gwendals did seem to be spreading a picnic blanket, while the Conrads carried food over. There was still no doubt which was which. His own Conrad looked kind and understanding, and the alien Conrad guarded and apprehensive. His own Gwendal was gruffly swallowing every short comment he made, while other-Gwendal seemed to have opened up into a chatterbox. Wolfram nodded thoughtfully at Aldrich, and headed their way. Much as he would have liked to visit Yuuri first, he didn't see him.

Aldrich held the other Wolfram back, with a hand on his shoulder. "Walk with me a moment, Prince? Tell me, how did it go with your father?"

"Ah, he sends his love," admitted Wolfram. "He… it was… good." He suddenly chuckled. "He overspent the Treasury. Sold all your medical reserves at the going rate for _potatoes."_

Aldrich laughed out loud. "Why am I not surprised. I swear, he does that on purpose. _'It needed to be done, and we did it. __**You**__ deal with the paperwork.'_ Please tell me he overspent Gwendal's Treasury, too, not just Bielenfeld's?"

"Oh, yeah – overspent both, hand over fist."

"Good!" Aldrich caught and held his eye. "Two questions. One – are you up to meeting your mother? Shin-Cecilie, at least. But I think your own mother will know you now. She's come a very long way since you saw her last."

Prince Wofram looked at his feet, gulped, and looked up. "What's the other question?"

"Well, the question I have to answer as soon as possible, is which Wolfram stands by Yuuri's side, in the well of the five kings. We hope we have four more days. But – it can happen any moment, really. As of this moment, who do I send?"

"Are these questions related?"

"Of course. If you can't give your heart to your own mother…"

"I can. You were right, to send me to Chichiue."

-oOo-

"Have you seen Garena?" Shin-Friedrich asked his son Aldrich. "He never seems to be around when Tariel is. Hm."

"True," agreed Aldrich. "Maybe Salix could shed some light on that. Cecilie?"

"Coming along. My Hon-self relieved me for a bit, to attend to my own issues. Though _I'm_ certainly not planning to attend the party with Soushu – you do have that straight on your assignment list, I trust?"

Aldrich nodded acquiescence. "I assume he'll agree? Good. Happen to know if my illustrious _other_ managed to stay sober last night?"

"Yes, he did well," Friedrich said, striking the exact same note of mental reservation as Manfred had. _Stopping drinking is only the beginning._ "I hope you're taking time to address your own issues, son? Healer heal thyself, and all that crap. And that inspiring little lecture about Soushu and resentments, hm? Perhaps you could work your way up – other-Aldrich, then Wolfred, and then time permitting…"

"Wolfred died a century and a half ago."

"Mm."

"I grew up, Father."

"Mm."

"Besides, it wasn't _him_ I resented, it was how _you_ always held us to different standards –"

"I rather liked your sage advice about Conrad and Gwendal, dealing with their brother-issues before parent issues." Friedrich clapped his son on the shoulder – a longish reach up, since the son rose nine inches above the father. "_Eight centuries_ of old baggage and all. Start small and work your way up. That's what I plan to do, with _my _brother and parent. Parents…"

Aldrich's eyes flashed briefly in outrage, but then he looked away and nodded resignation. His father had recognized him at birth, of course. And Aldrich's heavy religious and healer's training had brought his previous life as his own grandfather back to him in vivid detail. _It's a fair comment. My life as Theophilus, 'Moron von Bielenfeld' as Father puts it, always lay between us. _He sighed. "Yes. Maybe an hour with _other-_me's issues would help, at that."

Friedrich nodded. "Well, in case you don't have time to work up to me – I love you, son. Proud of you. Always have been." He smiled a brief crooked encouragement, clapped him on the back again, and strode off to pick Salix's brain.

Lord Aldrich detached Aldrich Maou from the crowd. Off in the woods alone together, they took off their social masks, and spent an hour getting real with each other. It helped both of them equally. Even Manfred, even Franklin, could never understand, not the way they understood each other's pain. They tried to live up to standards too high for a god, with feet most obstinately made of clay.

But then, after they'd screwed up their previous life as Theophilus so royally, killing off almost the entire family in a _'victory' _ party! And leaving their least-regarded son Friedrich to pick up the pieces… Only amends on the heroic scale of reconciling Trondheim and Shin Makoku, would do for them. And they'd never really been able to admit to that, to anyone else.

Aldrich felt like a weight had fallen off his shoulders. And Aldrich Maou seemed more relaxed, more comfortable in his own skin. Yet, his hand still shook from alcohol withdrawal, Shin-Aldrich noted sadly. _No, I'm not Maou. But there isn't enough time, for him._

-oOo-

"Neffie? Could we talk?" Lord Aldrich asked, when he returned Aldrich Maou to the group plotting spell attacks. The two men had one of those _complicated_ relationships so common among the Theophilus-ravaged ranks of the von Bielenfelds. Though Aldrich was forty-five years younger than Wolfred, he was actually Wolfred's uncle.

But they were both raised from infancy by Friedrich, as brothers.

_"Bite me,_ Nunkie,_"_ returned Wolfred. "Nothing to talk about. It defies the laws of the universe, for me to duck out of this fight." He was still furious about not getting to see Manfred.

Aldrich sighed. "I thought maybe we could talk about your son… my husband…"

Wolfred shot toward him, and thrust his face within inches of Aldrich's. "You're looking for my blessing, you can _kiss my ass, _Nunkie! How dare you shack up with _my son?!_ Shinou's _balls,_ man – he's your first cousin, _and_ great-nephew! So you're breeding with him? Oh, that's brilliant! Used to think your only saving grace was that you had a _brain_, Aldrich. _My mistake."_

"You _flaming_ hypocrite!" returned Aldrich. Even in the heat of argument, he was too aware of the onlookers to explain that last. Wolfred and he had had their own sexual fling, before Manfred was born – product of Wolfred and his great-uncle Garena.

"You son of a -!"

"Chill out, Wolfred," opined Shin-Friedrich, drifting over with Hon-Friedrich to observe. "You're going to get hurt." Anyone but Wolfred and Aldrich might suspect he'd come to referee this fight between his _'sons'_. The sons had no such illusions.

"Really?" inquired Hon-Friedrich. "My Aldrich's never won a fight against Wolfred." Both Aldrichs glared at him in fury.

"I didn't say he'd _win_," Shin-Friedrich clarified. "Only that he'd get _hurt._ My Aldrich's in top physical shape. Won the competition for Caller at midsummer a couple years back."

Hon-Friedrich looked tolerably impressed. "Still – not a prayer against Wolfred, eh?"

"_YOU_ –" Aldrich bit out at Friedrich. While his fury was trained on Friedrich, of course, was when Wolfred landed his first right hook.

Wolfred did take some damage. But he won, easily. After trading a few dozen blows, he and Aldrich got it out of their systems, and collapsed to the ground, leaning back to back. The Friedrichs encouraged the crowd to break up and give them some space.

"Top or bottom?" inquired Wolfred finally.

"He's top," Aldrich said grudgingly. "He's a great father. Can't wait to see what the twins look like as they grow up. Our other kids are gorgeous, especially Wolfram and Kieran. But the twins may be even better looking."

"You took care of him, after I left," Wolfred eventually offered grudgingly. "Thank you for that."

"All we had left of you," Aldrich conceded. "He was a sweet kid. Turned into a great man. You know, I didn't touch him until he was ninety. We were helping each _other _get back on our feet again…"

"Alright, already, pax. Nunkie… I still want to see him. If there's any way, hell, I'd move heaven and earth! If I can't… You make sure he _knows_ that, alright? I know how Manfred is. He'll be thinking, oh, it's just as well, I'd just be disappointed in him, or some crap like that. But there's no way that would _ever _be true. Make sure he _knows_ that, hey?"

Aldrich blinked. The wells had diverged, yes, and his Manfred had turned out a much harder, more cynical man than Wolfred's flower child Manfred. Yet Wolfred still knew his son, even so. "Yeah. I promise, Neffie. I'll tell him." But as they both knew full well, Manfred discounted words. He read body language, and read emotions. This was a message that could only really reach him in person.

"You know, Nunkie… You and my Aldrich, both, you're only half strength for this one," said Wolfred. "I'd follow either of you and all, but… He's shakey, and _you're _not a Maou. Gonna get Ilya to… Maou-ify you?"

Actually, Aldrich had been procrastinating on that. _But as Dietrich pointed out… Quercus' time estimates keep getting shorter. There may not be time, later._ "Yeah," he whispered.

"Do that. And we'll practice. You, me, and Yuuri Maou. Hell, maybe Cecilie and Shinou as well. Give you a workout, flex your nifty new powers a bit."

"Thanks, Neffie."

-oOo-

"Garena, ah, there you are," said a Friedrich. The Friedrichs had at last run him to ground in a clearing in the woods, sitting alone and soaking up sunlight. Which he continued, without acknowledging them, as though they'd run across a small carved statue of some woodland deity. Which wasn't too far off the truth, actually.

_What's between you and Tariel?_ inquired Shin-Friedrich, in the wood nymph speech._ You seem to be avoiding each other._

Unhappy unquiet silence.

_Are you fighting Soushu with me? _inquired Hon-Friedrich. _And with Wolfred?_

Silence.

_Did you take Quercus' side against Tariel? _asked Shin-Friedrich.

That broke Garena's composure. _It doesn't matter._

_They seem to be on the same side now,_ observed Hon-Friedrich. _But you don't seem reconciled. You of all people, cannot go into that fight with a resentment, especially not a resentment against the nymphs, especially not Tariel._

_What do you mean by that? Then I should stay out of the fight. _Garena expressed both thoughts simultaneously, not uncommon in nymph speech.

_What better could Soushu wish for as an ally, than a fallen nymph?_ suggested Shin-Friedrich.

_I'm no more nymph than you,_ Garena said bitterly. _Fallen before birth._

_You __**are**__ more nymph than we,_ asserted Hon-Friedrich._ In these nymph councils – are you accepted, or not? By Quercus? Salix? … Tariel?_

_Neither fish nor fowl,_ Garena said bitterly. It was a demon sentiment, not a nymph one.

_In the merging of wells… You preferred the well of the five kings,_ observed Shin-Friedrich. _Against me. Against your own son and his children. Does Wolfred know?_

_Gently, Friedrich,_ warned Hon-Friedrich. _There was no way to win. Was there, Garena? All ways, bitter as dust._

_He's not my son,_ denied Garena. _My Manfred… I helped raise him. He was… sun and light, love and joy, beauty and grace. I helped raise my Wolfram from babyhood, too. That Manfred… he's dark like __**you,**__ Friedrich. Manfred, Wolfram, both broken._

_I'm not the one who broke them,_ said Shin-Friedrich. _And you knew. I thought you didn't know you had a son, but you knew, all along. And even after the other Manfred died, you still didn't come to my Manfred. You had a relationship with your Friedrich, and still you denied me._

_It's__** my **__well! _Garena cried in anguish. _Don't you see? I knew it was a crime to the nymphs to wrest control of someone else's well. __**I **__made the well of the five kings persist, so that not even Quercus could shut it down, could interfere with it. I just… It was less painful than your reality. So I… escaped. And made that well, mine._

_I don't understand,_ said Hon-Friedrich. _First you seem to be on Quercus' side, then Tariel's, then neither, or maybe both. You tried to blend into demon society in Wolfred's court, then in Shin-Trondheim, but then walk away again. You hate us because we left you when we were children, though you know it was against our will. We never wanted to leave you, Garena._

Garena looked up and searched their faces. In them, he read truth. Friedrich had never wanted to leave him alone with Tariel. He was taken against his will. And later, when he was no longer a child and free to go, he had come back to find Garena and Tariel. Only to find that he really couldn't go back. Theophilus was right. Friedrich was demon, not nymph. After being raised an Aristocrat and healer of Bielenfeld, going back to live in the woods made no sense whatsoever. For him, the woods could not take the place of _people._ He could visit, but he couldn't stay.

_Whatever you want of me, ask and it's yours, brother,_ said Shin-Friedrich. _Maybe it's not enough. But I know Tariel feels the same way. I can't cure you of being caught between worlds, between races. But you do belong, Garena. You belong with me, with Manfred, with our family, every bit as much as you're willing to be. The bar is on your side, Garena, not ours. We do accept you._

_Forgive yourself, Garena,_ Hon-Friedrich beseeched him. _Then maybe you can accept that all of your family, and Salix and Quercus too, forgive you._

The wooden statue of a blond nymph man, moved in the woodland sunbeams. He clasped his legs in front of him, lowered his head to his knees, and cried.

_Not forgive you,_ Tariel corrected. For the Friedrichs' mental convenience, he materialized next to Garena, a blond child holding his knees much like Garena did. _Because nothing to forgive. You followed your heart – very demon of you. You kept second well alive. You helped Quercus evacuate demons of the forsaken well. You helped create this well. Yes, you break nymph law. But you are not full nymph. You're not bound by nymph law, any more than Shinou is._

_Shinou?_ asked the Friedrichs simultaneously.

But Tariel didn't answer. He was too busy building bridges with Garena, his son caught between worlds, in every way.

-oOo-

"How goes the _'unconditional love'_ biz, Lord Aldrich?" Shinou inquired cheerfully.

Aldrich stopped in consternation. Talking to… _God…_ was still more than a little intimidating. But Shinou simply smiled at him, beautiful huge blue eyes twinkling merrily. "I, uh… well, actually I was about to look for Ilya. In case Aldrich Maou isn't up to this, I…" He gulped. Though they hadn't mentioned it to the group, of course Shinou had been in on their planning sessions for the three days they'd gone missing, before they brought the others to the well between wells. "Wolfred suggested it was time I become Maou. Just in case."

"Certainly," agreed Shinou. He casually tapped Aldrich on the forehead. "You are Maou."

"What?"

"Sorry, you probably wanted Trondish shamanish mumbo-jumbo, huh? Not enough ceremony. But we're kinda pressed for time, and you have a lot to do. Sorry. Although… Well, OK, let's try this then."

And Aldrich found himself twirling in a heebie-jeebie resounding booming purple and pink and orange and blue water-dragon infested cuisinart nightmare, that made the roller-coaster trip through the Earth gates feel like a pleasant sail on the Donza. Images assaulted him rapidfire, lore, knowledge, the past, the present, the future, all tumbling together. He felt simultaneously like he couldn't take in any of it, yet it was being burned through his retinas into his mind, and he couldn't ever forget it.

-oOo-

"Hey, love," said Shin-Yuuri, slipping an arm around his own beloved Wolfram. "How're you keeping? You look great! I've been in and out of here all day, and you know, it's like each time I come back, everyone's reached a new plateau. You're not going to leave me behind, like some unevolved monkey, are you?" He said this with a twinkle in his eye, soft warm smile belying any such concern.

Wolfram rewarded him with a full-blown bishounen smile that nearly took Yuuri's breath away. "Not likely, wimp! But oh, it's good to see you! Everything OK back home?"

"Absolutely. Axel's folk repairing the garrison to earn their keep on that side. Shouri's folk settling in on our side. Though the storm keeps getting worse. Almost got brained by a tile flying off the roof. And there's the treasury, but…" Yuuri shrugged. _No doubt after Soushu, I'll sleep and let Gwendal handle it._

Wolfram had no trouble deciphering that look. "_Bad _Wimpue!" he chuckled. "You're such a crisis junkie. This kind of thing just cheers you right up! Does it really look like we've progressed?" His beautiful huge green eyes scanned the field appraisingly. He'd been rather caught up in his own dramas.

"Definitely!" encouraged Yuuri. "For instance, take the Brendans and Adelberts and Adeldan over there. For a while, each time I passed through they seemed worse than the last. But now, look at them. Five blond mountains at peace. And your brothers, well. Conrad and Gwendal being so lovey-dovey with each other, now that's just _wrong."_ The couple laughed out loud. "Killer Günter, and Our Lady of the Late-Night Punchbowl Günter, seem to have equilibrated into some intermediate Günter –"

"- Yet still neither _sane_ somehow," Wolfram inserted.

"And would we have it any other way?" agreed Yuuri. "Neurotic brother Dietrich looks _happy_, hyper-boingaroo brother Efram looks _mellow,_ your mother – both of them! – are looking downright_ dignified,_ Aldrich's mother Alana downright _approachable_. I don't think we'd best tell Giesela about Murata and Franklin, that's looking downright _intimate_ –" As Yuuri's character inventory continued, Wolfram had to hide his face in Yuuri's chest, shoulders shaking with mirth under Yuuri's arm.

"Now, hey, Wolfram, look – I know I've seen that guy before. Who is he?"

Wolfram stole a surreptitious glance, and mock-slapped Yuuri's chest. "René Dubois, you know full well!"

Having grown somewhat in wisdom over the years, Yuuri gratefully accepted Wolfram's generous assumption, that he was only joking. Yuuri certainly _should_ have known him full well, Dubois being one of the Eleven Aristocrats. However, in practice, he didn't remember the guy. Aldrich bore his proxy at meetings. René wasn't part of his autonomist coalition, because he was _more_ autonomist than they were. He considered a coalition for that cause, rather an oxymoron. And Yuuri still hadn't visited Dubois. For a domain entirely surrounded by other parts of Shin Makoku, they had surprisingly little to do with anyone else.

"You know," Yuuri mused, "his eyes look a lot like Shinou's. Yours too, for that matter, except the brilliant sky blue, instead of brilliant leaf green."

"Surely you know that old story? René claims the Dubois are the last surviving relatives of Shinou. _He_ claims Shinou came from a poor farm in Spitzweg, and ran off to become a mercenary. But his younger brother made good and founded the Dubois dynasty. Of course, _we_ think Shinou looks like a von Bielenfeld."

Yuuri pursed his lips. He'd never mentioned it to Wolfram, but _Shinou_ had told him that same story, minus the brother. And Yuuri'd had the same reaction as Wolfram – can't be, because he looks the spitting image of the… _wood-nymph-descended, fire-maryoku von Bielenfelds. With their rambunctious blond cowlicks and striking huge green eyes. Could Shinou…?_

But before he could pursue this line of thought, he spotted Lord Aldrich making for them. "Excuse me, love – I haven't had a turn talking to Aldrich yet. Tonight, let's get some quality time together, hm?"

-oOo-

"Ah, my Lord Aldrich!" Yuuri greeted him. "I'm most impressed by your progress here! My turn to be uplifted?"

Aldrich laughed ruefully. "Actually, I was thinking of you as more of a rest break, Sire. I can't think of anyone in less need of coaching in courage or love."

It was true. Aldrich considered Yuuri the greatest spiritual leader the world had ever known. Though Yuuri's discomfort with that kind of worship – especially given the recent Yuuri cult growing in Trondheim – made him tone down his praise in deference to His Majesty's wishes.

Yuuri coughed. "Well, I'm sure I have a resentment or two lurking."

"No, Sire! Well, aside from that little jealousy of Wolfram and Bertram, but that's just a _trifle!_" Both men laughed, then Aldrich grew pensive. "I, um… Shinou just gave me Maou powers. Sorry, I'm pretty off-balance. He took me on this… _nightmare_ trip…"

"Mm," Yuuri commiserated. "Heebie-jeebie laughter and whirlpool spin, with nightmare visions buffeting you like a hurricane?"

"That's it!"

Yuuri's deep black eyes met his, with a warm soft smile as tangible as a down blanket. "You'll get used to it," he said kindly. "The rest of us did."

Aldrich gulped, finding it very hard to keep meeting Yuuri's eye. "Yes, Sire. Thank you." He broke eye contact, blushing. Fortunately, with his oddball racial mix, he blushed lavender, and most people didn't realize what it meant. "Ah… Wolfram. I still have to decide which Wolfram stands with you. What are your thoughts, Sire?"

Yuuri twisted a ring and gazed over the lawn with a sigh. "Prince Wolfram. If you think the Prince can get the job done. I'd prefer my Wolfram stay home with our children. I think this situation has my husband's weakness for _'heroic self-destruction'_ written all over it. Especially if Axel or Paol or Robair were in danger… What do you think?"

"I tend to agree. As you wish, then, Sire."

Yuuri nodded. "Thank you. But, now – Aldrich, if you've just been Maou'd, you probably need a break. How about letting us Yuuri's take over until the evening meeting, and you go home for a bit, hm? I don't have your style, but my heart's in it, and I'm not burnt out, right?"

"Thank you, Sire. I think I'll take you up on that."

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

"Mm," Aldrich purred, alone with Manfred in their bedroom at Blood Pledge Castle. "I needed that."

"I can see that. Love, tell me – how is it that an unconditional love coach got such a shiner?" Maybe Yuuri didn't know a black eye when it came in lavender, but Manfred could.

"Oh! That… Well, your father and I… worked out some sibling rivalry." Aldrich laughed ruefully.

Manfred healed the lavender eye back to normal unbruised coloring. "So this my old man's blessing on our marriage, huh? Well, if he'd stuck around, he might be entitled to an opinion. As it is, he can shove it."

"It's not like that, Manfred. He loves you. He _adores_ you. He's just heartbroken that everyone else can come see you, and talks about you, and he can't, you know? He wasn't angry at you marrying me. He was angry at _me_ marrying _you._"

"Mm. I don't want to waste this time talking about my father." His healing flame was back on Aldrich's face, this time with no clinical healing detachment, just uncloaked love and passion. His other hand pushed Aldrich before him to the bed, and then down onto it. The flaming thumb pressed into Aldrich's mouth, opened it and pushed down on his back teeth, the way that always made Aldrich melt to his touch. Thumb was followed by lips and tongue, in a long deep kiss.

The storm outside cranked up to a new level, adding brilliant lightning and crashing thunder into the mix. The firebugs adored the electricity, adding excitement to the chemistry of lovemaking.

Suddenly the melted Aldrich went stiff, and gripped Manfred's arm. He turned his head to dislodge Manfred's thumb, and quickly said, "I love you. See you on the other side."

And in the blink of an eye, it was Aldrich Maou's body beneath Manfred's. "Time ran out," he explained, in that voice, habitually higher and softer than Shin-Aldrich's. "I'm… sorry, Manfred."

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

Yuuri found himself suddenly transported into the storm, on the mountainside below Shinou's broken temple, in the well of the five kings. Sheets of rain and vicious windsqualls slashed hair into his eyes. Lightning bolts flashed from zenith to ground, sometimes three bolts at once. Thunderclaps cracked the sky with teeth-rattling, ground-rumbling force. The roiling, writhing purple-black ropes of hell that had circled inside the force field over Shinou's temple, now unravelled, stretching arms out like a nightmare octopus, to seize Shin Makoku as its prey.

The force field barrier, erected years before by the five kings, was gone.

-oOo-

_Oy, sorry for the long chapter, but I didn't want this part to splay into two chapters, and I was too lazy to edit it down any further. _

_Hey, if I'm going to kill someone in the Big Battle, any preferences who to off? Aldrich? Wolfred? Garena? One of the not-OC series main characters? Since I have duplicates, it's a prime opportunity to kill a main character! - Though… if someone who's in the wrong well dies, what becomes of the one stranded in the wrong reality? Or even while they're linked. Hmmm…_

_Please review? I get discouraged when I don't get reviews. T.T This story's been really hard to write, too… _


	13. The Battle for the Walls

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

**AN: **_Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!! Hm, not much enthusiasm for killing anyone – one vote Prince Wolfram, two votes for Garena. (Poor Garena… so misunderstood!) I __**was**__ going to kill Aldrich, but…_

**Chapter 13 – The Battle for the Walls**

_Well of the Five Kings_

Around Yuuri, on that hellish hillside beneath the roiling purple-black menace and lightning, his companions from the well of the two nymphs popped into existence beside him. Most selections, of which twin would fight Soushu, were as expected. The four kings Julius, Adeldan, Wolfred, and Franklin. Hon-Friedrich, Alana, and Ilya von Trondheim, Hon-Dietrich and Hon-General von Dienst, Shin-Conrad and Gwendal and Cecilie. But to Yuuri's surprise, Aldrich had chosen Shin-Günter and Brendan, though Hon-Adelbert. Shin-Sylvain Lord Donaghie was no surprise, but Shin-Erick and Ted also stood by Hon-Franklin. And Shin-René Lord Dubois was an unknown quantity to most. And others… but all too few. They had seemed a crowd in the flowery wood between worlds. But half of their number seemed helplessly small on this storm-tossed battlefield.

Yuuri swallowed. Even though it was he who ensured this result, it still hurt to see Prince Wolfram arrive, rather than his own beloved Wolfram. _Maybe I was wrong, love. Maybe I needed your true heart beside me. _But it didn't show on his face. He smiled warmly to Prince Wolfram, and beckoned him to stand by his side.

Lord Aldrich had actually preceded Yuuri, it having been his job to decide which half of each pair was coming. The rest of them arrived in battle regalia. But Aldrich himself was in glittering Bielenfeld officer's dress uniform, Morgif dangling decoratively at his hip. He didn't offer the sword to Yuuri yet. In the Plan, Aldrich was supposed to have wielded Morgif first as one of the five kings, to bring down the barrier. That appeared moot now – the barrier had failed. But Yuuri didn't like to jog his elbow just yet. Aldrich was concentrating, holding a hand to an ear. Yuuri imagined he was using one of those security-team earphones for urgent crowd-control coordination. The technology differed, but the purpose was the same.

Though they had less than two days, instead of the six days they'd hoped for, the time had been invaluable. The Shin and Hon folk blended seamlessly, with confidence instead of fear and mistrust. They sorted themselves out into their proper groups for the next phase. Each of those groups remained understrength, though.

Apparently the last of their party had arrived, for Aldrich lowered his hand and gazed around him. Yuuri had to yell to make himself heard over the lashing, crashing storm. _"Well done, Lord Aldrich! Good to have you at my side!"_ They shook hands firmly. Yuuri met his eye and willed confidence into his man. He knew Aldrich hadn't wanted to face the prospect of taking Aldrich Maou's place here. _"Where's the nymphwall?"_

Aldrich shook his head, and unbuckled Morgif to hand the sword over. _"Can't yet!" _he yelled back. _"We're too few! Axel and Günter's troops just got word at the garrison! Lucy's band is still hours away!"_

_Damn!_ Yuuri winced. The nymphs made it look so easy to pop in and out all over Shin Makoku and Hon Makoku, for the group at the well between worlds. But they could only do it _between_ wells. Nymphs couldn't transport people hither and yon within a well. They had to march – into driving wind and rain and lightning, no less. _'Lucy's band'_ was the odd-race group of adolescents traveling from Trondheim, whose Shin-selves were less than a year old – full-blood ogres, trolls, fauns, kobolds, centaurs, and more. _They look big, but even the Hon-ones are still kids. Powerful kids, though…_

Yuuri pointed to the octopus-arms of roiling purple overhead, stretching out to grasp Shin Makoku. _"Can't wait! Tell Lucy's kids to take cover! We'll fight without them!"_

The other kings and General von Dienst had joined them. _"No!"_ vetoed von Dienst. _"We need them! Wait, at least until Axel's forces arrive!"_

"_He's right, Sire!"_ yelled Aldrich. He briefly put a hand to his ear again. _"The nymphs won't do it!"_

"_Can we get at least get Lucy and Dannikin here?"_ These representatives, centaur and ogre, had apparently been sent back to their odd-race troop, rather than to the battle zone.

"_The well is closed, Sire! I'm sorry! We just have to wait!"_ yelled Aldrich.

"_Sire! I want light up here!"_ yelled von Dienst.

It was a good point. Under the storm, the battlefield was pitch black between lightning flashes. _"That I can do!"_ agreed Aldrich. Wolfred and Wolfram had already raised arms to call fire, but Aldrich signaled them to save their strength. As Maou, he had orders of magnitude more maryoku to draw on. And as Maou, he'd yet to try his powers. Concentrating, he summoned giant pyres to either end of their group, then another uphill toward the broken Temple, and another downhill toward where Axel's troops should emerge.

"_Like child's play, isn't it?"_ yelled Yuuri, encouragingly. Aldrich grinned a fey grin, and nodded back.

"_Where's Shinou?"_ asked Wolfred.

"_That's what the box is for!"_ answered Yuuri. _"Until we release the boxes, we fight without him!"_

Now that he had light to work with, von Dienst got busy ordering people around, setting up a perimeter. The Trond-Gratz-Walde contingent provided a whole lot of earth-power. The General deployed that to good effect, throwing up earthworks. Then he dispatched Erick and his muscle men to expedite Axel and Günter's troops' progress up the mountain.

Meanwhile, the kings and Yuuri and Aldrich grasped hands or shared hugs all around, assuring each other's full support and partnership, despite the Shin-Hon divide. Aldrich and Yuuri lingered particularly long in each other's embrace, and Aldrich with his brother-nephew Wolfred, and his late best friend Franklin.

"_See you on the other side!"_ King Julius wished them all. A healer-potion master sort of Wincott, his gear clanked with stoneware potion jars, as well as his sword. _"By the way, do we? I mean, assuming we win! We see each other, after?"_

"_That's the plan!" _Yuuri yelled back. _"See you on the other side!"_

"_**Puppets!"**_ Conrad cried. Yuuri looked, and indeed, an army of puppets was rising from the ground to surround them. Before wading to the earthwork ramparts to begin the fight, Yuuri glanced up again at the roiling sky. One of the octopus arms already seemed to reach down a finger to touch Blood Pledge Castle below.

_Godspeed Axel, Lucy,_ Yuuri thought. Then he grew too busy to think much of anything.

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

Like his alter ego, Aldrich Maou often had his hand to his ear in some kind of internal conference dialogue, as he coordinated at Blood Pledge Castle. But he wasn't in quite as chaotic an environment, so could multi-task with other conversations. He and Manfred were soon joined by Shin-Friedrich and Giesela and Love Professor Symbian, as well as Yuuri's brother Shouri, Maou of Earth. They commandeered the ballroom for the Shin-side of the battle party. Since the backup twins were in varying degrees of rapport with their _other-_selves by Hon-Shinou's temple, the Aldrichs decided to keep them all together here, under healers' supervision.

A few – most notably Shin-Wolfram, Hon-Erick, and Hon-Günter – took grave exception to being not-chosen for the war party. Aldrich made them cool their heads until he spoke to the whole group. Then, last of all, Bertram appeared in his arms, and Aldrich's hand went to his ear no more. He kissed Bertram and passed him to Wolfram.

"Everyone! May I have your attention!" Aldrich boomed. His voice sounded the same as Shin-Aldrich's, when he projected it for Trond-style public speaking. "I know some of you are not pleased to be here. You wished to be in the battle in the well of the five kings. _So did I!_ But what matters most, is _that_ _we win!_ That we _win._ And we believe your _other-_side is best suited for the battle on _that _side, and we here are best suited to the challenges on _this _side. Sometimes that was a hard judgment call. But it doesn't matter now. The die is cast. The wells are closed. You are here to stay, until the battle is over, and nothing can change that. But even on this side, we are _all_ still in this battle!

"_Children,_ I ask you to_ play._ Nothing will help your other-selves more, than that _you_ are well and safe and happy. Tonight, I want you to stay up late, and eat lots of sweets. Try to keep your minds in this room, and on reassuring things. Try to stay out of rapport with your other-selves. If anything worries you, anything at all, ask for a hug, from someone on _this_ side. My other comments will be directed to the adults. But you, children – please go get your supper, and a _whopping_ dessert, then come back here to play for the night, OK?"

Young Dietrich and his younger cousin Lord Wincott, and Lucy and Dannikin and the other children, looked vastly relieved, and scampered off to supper. Nannies took the youngest under wing. Trenton von Gratz was in his glory, recruited earlier today to host the children's party. Annissina coached Greta in the fine art of letting the boy believe he was in charge, while maintaining female control.

But Efram folded his arms and stood his ground, resolved _not to be treated as a child_. His fathers didn't gainsay him. Manfred gave his shoulder a squeeze, to suggest that he keep his mind open to a hug, if he needed one. Efram nodded a confident grin.

_"Adults!"_ Aldrich continued, as the children's parade departed. "You, and I, will be in rapport with our other-selves, giving everything we can give. The servants are bringing in couches and cots, food and beverages. Find yourself a familiar group, get comfortable, and offer your strength to the other side. You can tune out here, and give the battle there your full attention, if you wish. Chancellor Manfred Lord Bielenfeld is in charge here, and his healers and servants. Let them know if you're in any difficulty. Lord Friedrich, Lord Wolfram, and I, or any of us, may be helping heal, or playing with the kids. But we may also need to go deep into rapport to support our _other-_selves at any moment, just like you." He nodded to Lord Manfred.

"Thank you, Aldrich Maou. Ladies, gentlemen, I bid you all welcome. And please, as Aldrich said, if there's _anything_ the authorities here need to know – that authority would be me. Please make yourselves comfortable. Give everything you can, to support our men and women on the other side. Thank you."

The milling around gradually settled down, after food and rest breaks and selecting couches and chairs and cots. Unsurprisingly, some of the most adamantly insulted to have been left on this side, were soon deep in trance, their hearts and minds entirely otherwhere. Aldrich was sort of half-and-half. He took an armchair facing the rest of the room, and sat in meditation attuned to Aldrich-_there_, but with eyes half open, keeping tabs on the situation here.

Wolfram, however, was still thoroughly in the here and now. He checked in with Greta, who returned with the kids, kissed Ekaterin and Avram and Margritte, chased after Bertram, wrestled with little Frieda, reassured Dietrich and Trenton and little Lord Wincott, chased after Bertram, traded affable insults with Efram, and chased after Bertram.

Manfred let him work it out of his system for a bit, but eventually Aldrich settled a fixed frown on Wolfram. Manfred put a hand on his shoulder, and murmured, "Lord Wolfram. You have other business tonight, son. Remember, our hearts can reach across the wells. Aldrich chose Prince Wolfram to _fight_. But he knew you'd still be able to give your _heart._ You're not going to hear the call for help, if you're wrestling with the kids. Settle down and focus on the battle, son, and be with Yuuri. Let us handle the kids. Right, Bertram? You'll be good, so Chichiue can work!"

Wolfram flushed in chagrine. "You're right, Chichiue." He leaned down and kissed Bertram. "You be good for Manfred-Chichiue, sweetling."

Bertram watched Wolfram walk over to lie down by Hon-Yuuri, then affably turned to Manfred, arms reaching, on tiptoe. "Up?"

Manfred stared at him longer than was really polite. Yes, he'd always known, intellectually, that this child of his was Shinou reborn, but… never so strongly as had been brought home to him in the past few days. Bertram was born to him, yet chosen by a god, and then given to his son to raise as his grandson. He wasn't sure in what sense the child was _his_. Every parent has those '_I'm looking at a changeling left where my child was supposed to be'_ moments, and Manfred was having one in a big way, beholding this small alien green-blond child.

Bertram started to look worried, and wriggled uncomfortably under Manfred's stare. "Manchu love Bertum? Bertum good boy! Manchu up!"

Manfred shook off his funk and smiled crookedly. He lifted Bertram high into the air, then folded him into his arms with a kiss. "Yes, Manchu love Bertum – _Urk! Manfred Chichiue_ loves _Bertram. _Very much. C'mon, chu trickster. Time to go play with Sanguria and Lasagna. Grown-ups have to work."

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

King Wolfred von Bielenfeld and Günter von Krist fell back into precision teamwork so flawlessly, it was as though the past century and a half had never happened. Günter's protective spells and stunning swordsmanship kept a swath fifty feet in diameter clear of pesky hostile weapons. Entrusting his own safety entirely to Günter, Wolfred could concentrate on scything down puppets by the hundreds with Efram's modified spell. The two of them alone held down one corner of their small earthen defenses. They left the people manning their flanks very little to do, except stay vigilant in case they should falter.

Prince Wolfram and his beloved Dietrich, side by side, led the fire-users defending another quadrant of their perimeter. Aldrich provided a power assist now and then, but mostly worked under Friedrich and Julius' tutelage as a field medic. He'd never been in battle before, as medic or fighter. They warned him to train his mind on the immediate task at hand. Queen Alana and the Kings Franklin and Adeldan ruled the other side of their precariously small position, with most of the earth majutsu users fighting with them. Conrad's sword was reserved as ever for full time protection of Yuuri. Yuuri mostly helped the healers by transporting the injured immediately into their care in the relative safety of the center. But from this center himself, he kept an eye in every direction for any faltering in defenses, or offensive rushes, and now and then hosed away puppets with a torrent of water. Cecilie did much the same, blowing away puppets like loose-fallen hay.

Earth-users Gwendal and Brendan, sworn to secrecy forevermore, learned the secrets of earth-walking that day from Erick's team. The two of them together barely equaled the power of one of Erick or his toughs, but it was enough. They battled down to the garrison, where Axel's forces were pinned. With Axel and Jans' men providing a defensive perimeter on the way back, Erick's team managed to establish a sort of earth-sled surfing uphill, big enough for them all, even some of their horses. Blood Pledge Castle and the garrison and town were left completely defenseless, their people already fled. This was agony to Gwendal, to turn his back on them. He had to grit his teeth, and force himself to focus on the task at hand.

It seemed to take an eternity of fighting, but at last the garrison forces made it to Yuuri's position. Yuuri grabbed Aldrich's arm, and yelled, _"Now? Nymphwall yet?"_

Aldrich concentrated a moment and shook his head. _"Wait! Few more minutes!"_

"_Wait for what? We're wearing ourselves out!"_

"_That!"_ yelled Aldrich, pointing. Yuuri didn't see it at first, but then it came, choreographed, one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. A flock of black geese flying in a V-formation it seemed at first, when lightning lit the towering stormclouds. Then starting from the flyer on point, and rippling back to the ends of the V, the not-geese roared and spewed flame.

"_KRISTBANE!"_ roared the cheering Shin-folk, led by Erick. The Hon-folk didn't understand this. Jans' crew looked downright offended, once they figured out what the cheers were saying. But Erick grabbed Gwendal and Brendan under his arms and laughed. _"Guess we didn't need to bring the horses after all!"_

"_Too late now!" _Brendan yelled back. _"You can't unteach us earth-walking!"_

"_But now Gwen's got no excuse! He __**has**__ to come visit me! Right, Gwen?"_

Gwendal roared a laugh, the fell mood of battle upon him. _"Deal, Trond!"_

The dragons were a lot farther away than they first appeared, as 'geese'. But soon enough, forty dragons landed in a circle around the Mazoku position, forming their own perimeter outside the earthworks. Lucy's band of full-blood centaurs, trolls, ogres, elves, and whatnot, alighted and ran back to join the team. Once they were safe, a third of the dragons leapt back into the sky, and fled the battlefield, in every direction.

Garena, mounted atop the lead dragon Kristbane, exchanged a salute with his lover Wolfred. Then he winked out and re-appeared in their midst. He exchanged a handshake and hug with his brother Hon-Friedrich. And he disappeared again.

The moment Garena was gone, the nymphwall went up. No transparent barrier this, but an oblong solid dome of light, hundreds of yards high, just as wide, and thrice as long. Many of the Tronds, quite content to fight in the dark, cried out in pain, and hurriedly fished for their sunglasses to protect their eyes. The light on the mountain was now bright as a brilliant clear day, yet glowing from every direction, like a dazzling fog that cast no shadows. As eyes adjusted, they could eventually see that the light throbbed in brightness, like a slow deliberate heartbeat.

The outward-reaching purple-black power tendrils were chopped off abruptly, and shrivelled back from the nymphwall. But they re-formed, and wound themselves in, to spin tighter and faster, the colors deeper and more intense, at the second focus of the battle arena – Shinou's temple.

The storm and the night were over. Now the real battle could begin.

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

"I thought you'd fight with Wolfred," Manfred said guardedly, by way of greeting his estranged father Garena. "Or heal there, anyway." Nymphs didn't fight. Even Friedrich, living as a demon Lord for nearly eight centuries, had never killed, nor even borne a sword. His military service had been strictly as a sergeant of healers.

"Friedrich convinced me not to," replied Garena. "And Quercus." Today he appeared dressed in his full Hon Makoku Bielenfeld finery, as befit the consort and vassal of King Wolfred. Yet he wore his hair as they'd styled it on Manfred and Wolfram's joint honeymoons in Trondheim, when Garena had his eye on Gwendal's lady dragon-talker. The other von Bielenfelds read this mixed message as _'still confused'. _Manfred, more adept in the non-verbal range, read it as, _This time, I'm here as all of me._ Though Manfred wasn't sure what to make of this dubious gift.

"I brought the dragons and Lucy's band to the fight. Now I'm useful for Krennhaven," said Garena.

"Krennhaven?"

Garena pointed to the hall door. A sodden and bedraggled runner burst into the room, to bring Manfred an urgent plea for help from Lord Khrennikov. The storm at Blood Pledge extended down the coast. Though the rain and lighting were worst here, the wind was just as bad over the ocean, whipping onshore. The storm surge mounded water atop waves atop the incoming tide. Last high tide had been eight feet above normal, and the next promised to be higher, with waves as high as ten feet. Alas, the seawall that protected the stone city of Krennhaven, with its deep water port, was currently undergoing repair. Unless the storm abated, Lord Khrennikov feared the wall and city wouldn't survive another high tide. Birds and kohi messengers were helpless against these winds. The poor runner had come _by water_. Lord Khrennikov had commandeered the return trip of one of Bielenfeld's fast launches, just before the last high tide. By now, high tide was due again in less than two hours.

The battle in the well of the five kings being in a lull at present, many of the supporting halves in the ballroom gathered around for the discussion. Half of General von Dienst's corps of engineers were already in Krennhaven from the well-merging crisis. Von Dienst was all too aware of the vulnerable seawall, and had been concerned by talk of oceans running amok. "Not much they can _do_ during a storm, though."

"But the engineers know _what_ to do," said Shibuya Shouri. "Gwendal and Erick's team can shore up the seawall, can't you? Your other-selves did more than that, in the evacuation of my world." The Hon-folk had heard of this exploit from their other-selves.

The runner confirmed that Lord Khrennikov had also heard tales about the evacuation of Earth, and offered Lord Erick _'everything he asked for at last council, five years of all the fish paste he can use'._

Urbane Hon-Prince Erick – Hon Makoku's _premiere _patron of the performing arts – looked bemused and faintly disgusted. But his _other_'s lieutenant Shin-Hasgrud leapt at the offer, and hurriedly drew Erick aside, to explain the acrimonious history of the request, and, _why by the ghosts he'd want five years of fish paste…_

"The Kraken can help," offered Garena. The giant squid-like sea monster Mazoku were pals of his, much like the dragons. A young Kraken had attended Shin-Lord Erick's Midsummer confirmation party, during the Racial Accords conference. The Donza River was too shallow for an adult Kraken, though, and everyone but Garena devoutly hoped never to meet one in the deep.

To their amazement, Hon-Cecilie spoke up. "I can blow the winds offshore while they work. Lord Khrennikov and Lord – Squire – Sylvain are also wind users. Please, Manfred, let me help Khrennikov!" _As I failed so badly before…_

"Aldrich can get the group to Khrennikov and back, and Yuuri and I can control the water," said Shouri. He met Manfred's and Hon-Yuuri's eyes beseechingly. "I want to help, to protect little brother's world, after he did so much to save my people." Hon-Yuuri nodded emphatically.

"I can lend some more water power," offered Hon-René Lord Dubois.

Aldrich Maou said quietly, "It's your call, Chancellor Manfred."

Manfred looked all too painfully aware of that. "You'd have to be back before you're needed on the other side. Do you have an hour?"

"From now… a half hour, three quarters at most," said Hon-Yuuri, "before they reach the boxes in Shinou's temple. Aldrich could monitor the situation, and bring us back the instant we're needed."

Manfred looked to Aldrich, who nodded slightly, to confirm it was possible, but put no pressure on Manfred either way. "Work fast, then," Manfred decided. "Don't cut it too fine."

Garena disappeared immediately, to appeal to the Kraken. Aldrich gathered his team – Erick and his toughs, Gwendal and Cecilie and René, Yuuri and Shouri, and General von Dienst. Then he reached for the sword Morgif, and…

Morgif bit him.

With vast reluctance, Hon-Yuuri extended a hand to Morgif. Friedrich took a deft step left. Thus he avoided being knocked into the fire pokers, when Hon-Yuuri was blasted back.

"Bertram?" Aldrich reluctantly called.

The toddler came over hand in hand with his current playmate, Shin-Erick's adopted fire ogre, Dannikin. "Oh, no!" cried Wolfram. "Not that again!" And he grabbed onto Bertram, just as Bertram grabbed Morgif's nose.

And they all disappeared.

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

Of course, Soushu was a highly intelligent adversary. And until the ritual of unlocking the boxes was complete, Shinou was in thrall to Soushu, in the well of the five kings.

The battle party took some time to cross the distance between their initial position and Shinou's broken temple. But that was only because Gwendal and von Dienst were absolute demons for watching their flanks. Dragons and fighters were deployed as cautiously as if they were still under attack by hordes of puppets, in case suddenly, they were. But nothing hampered their progress, save caution. In essence, they took a highly armed and deliberate slow walk a couple hundred feet, up a brightly lit grassy slope.

Yuuri felt rather silly. But he allowed that he'd feel a great deal worse, getting ambushed through carelessness. And indeed, the animosity of the purple-black Soushu-Shinouplex was palpable. It was easy to imagine the malevolent power was just waiting to take advantage of any weakness.

They deployed in a ring around three large weather-worn wooden boxes, above which a purple-black core of hostility pulsed. Its foreshortened, intense tentacles of hatred whipped overhead. In the midst of the boxes was a short but brilliant lavender-white pillar of light, directly beneath the sphere.

Yuuri's face hardened. Dark blue static played in his long black hair, rising in its own electrical wind. "Ulrike," he said.

They'd warned him of this, but there was no preparation adequate for seeing the childlike priestess, his _friend, _like _this_, frozen in place. The boxes turned up in this well years before Yuuri and Murata were born. Ulrike tried to handle them herself, but they grew too much for her. When Aldrich Maou learned that the temple had blasted apart, and Ulrike turned to a pillar of light, the five kings and Ilya had erected the force field to contain the danger. _With Ulrike inside!_ Yuuri raged internally.

"Careful, Shibuya…" murmured Murata.

"It was Saint Ulrike's own choice," defended the priestess Hon-Ilya von Trondheim.

"Is she _alive?"_ Yuuri demanded.

Ilya waggled a hand so-so. "She is frozen in time. She holds this tableau in stasis, until the Great Sage can return to save her beloved Shinou."

"And _her," _Yuuri said pointedly. "We save _Ulrike,_ too. _Right,_ Murata?"

Murata appeared to have doubts on the feasibility of that. Aldrich said gently, "Sire, with respect – we honor Ulrike's sacrifice by saving _Shinou_, whether we succeed with Ulrike or not. Perhaps we should attend to the business at hand first?"

"He's right, Shibuya," Murata said sadly. "If opening the boxes frees Ulrike, then, maybe she's alive, or maybe she's free to die. It's enough, maybe, just to free her. If she's still… like _that…_ when this battle is over, then Ilya and I can –"

"Just a moment," interrupted elderly Shin-Elliot, Regent Lord Wincott. He'd been studying Ulrike with great interest. "Nephew, would you happen to have any passelfoot tincture with you?"

"Ah, perhaps, Uncle…" King Julian rummaged through the many potion pockets of his battle cloak. "You don't think she's…?" But though Hon-Friedrich greedily hung on every word, the von Wincotts divulged none of their trade secrets.

Elliot simply took the so-called _'passelfoot' _ jar – kept strictly away from Friedrich's prying eyes and nose – and walked up to Ulrike. "Hm," he said. "Actually, on second thought, perhaps this should wait, as Aldrich was saying. This tableau is all much more orderly and manageable in this… _'stasis'._"

"_Now,"_ demanded Yuuri. "Ulrike has waited long enough."

"Sire, wait," begged Aldrich. "Our _other-_selves are in Khrennikov now. At least wait for us all to re-establish rapport. Let them get back to Blood Pledge –"

"Aldrich, all he's doing is freeing Ulrike! Oh, alright!" said Yuuri, deeply annoyed.

But unnoticed while the others argued, Lord Dietrich quietly walked up behind Elliot, eyes downcast. When he looked up, reaching his hand for Elliot's jar, it was Prince Wolfram who saw the dead blank eyes, turned from their normal beautiful emerald green, to mirrored, pupil-less sky blue. _"Dietrich!"_ he screamed.

Unfortunately, Elliot looked toward Wolfram, not Dietrich. And none of them could move fast enough to stop Dietrich taking the potion jar, unstoppering it, and throwing its entire contents onto the pillar of light that was Ulrike.

At which point, all hell broke loose.

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

In the main ballroom of Blood Pledge Castle, Dietrich pulled on Manfred's hand. Manfred was speaking with yet another crisis messenger. He held out his other hand, motioning the child to wait. But Dietrich moaned, "But Manfred Chichiue, something's _wrong!_ I feel _sick,_ and the _eyes…!"_

Manfred might still have put off the tired child, but the man he was talking to, glanced down at Dietrich and gasped. Manfred whipped around and knelt to hold Dietrich, whose eyes were glowing… _blue._ "Break it off, sweetie! Sweet Diet, please Shinou, break off your contact with _other-_Dietrich, _right now!"_

"But he needs my _help,"_ Dietrich's faint voice squeaked. "He's _scared,_ Manfred! _AH!"_ And Dietrich's little body arched in a spasm in Manfred's arms.

-oOo-

_Phew. Battle scenes are hard. Especially watching more than one or two people. Hope I managed some excitement above and beyond simply keeping track of everyone. ;) Sorry I broke it off here, but I wanted some complications, and just can't resolve them in only one chapter… Let me know if it's getting boring?_

_Please review? I get discouraged when I don't get reviews. _


	14. The Heart Key

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

**Chapter 14 – The Heart Key**

_Well of the One King_

It was far from accidental, that when Yuuri's team in the well of the five kings, and Manfred's team at Blood Pledge Castle, suddenly needed them, the group in Khrennikov was completely preoccupied. Fortunately one of them, the future-seeing Garena, was a very hard man to surprise.

Garena wasn't visible when they reached the seawall in Krennhaven. They quickly located General von Dienst's engineers and Annissina's older brother Lord Khrennikov, huddled sodden in the stone harbor-master's booth at the base of the wall. The army engineers guided Prince Erick's group out to where the seawall was most in danger. The top of a section had been dismantled, to be rebuilt with new mortar. In the meantime, the waves were working in between jagged edges, trying to rip the huge blocks apart. Unless they sealed that stretch of seawall again, the waves would very likely succeed. To shield the earth-users while they set to work, Lord Khrennikov, Cecilie, and Sylvain plied their wind power on blowing the waves away from the wall. Hon-Yuuri, Shouri, and Hon-René took turns building counter-waves to push water offshore.

Meanwhile a wet and miserable Wolfram huddled in the booth, minding Bertram and Dannikin. _What in hells' name are we doing here! We weren't supposed to come! What can a fire user can do about any of __**this?**_

But the little fire ogre Dannikin grinned out on the wild dark seas. He reached a pudgy little hand out and… _froze a wave. _Wolfram could see this, because the ogre child seemed to have lit the wave on fire as well. The small wave floated frozen below them in the dark, with fire running along its crest, other waves crashing back from it.

"Dannikin – how did you do that?" cried Wolfram.

"Move heat on top," explained proud little Dannikin. "Pretty!"

Bertram climbed up on a bench beneath the window and had a try, too. His baby efforts were a lot less useful, turning waterspray on the window into frost, with little blue flames dancing off it. But Wolfram couldn't resist trying it, too. He picked a roller a ways out. _Could it be? Water is ice plus heat? So a fire user can move the heat… up on top!_ It took him a few tries to get the knack, but then another giant wave stood frozen, flame licking along its crest, waves behind it crashing onto _that_ instead of the seawall! Though not for long – Dannikin's wave-iceberg had already been crushed into slush. _But it did break the surf for a while first!_

Their flame-topped waves also lit the scene. At first Wolfram doubted his eyes, but no – that was Garena at the bow of a deep-sea schooner, suddenly moving _out_ to sea! Then he appeared on another bow, suddenly moving out of the port, into the teeth of the oncoming winds and sea. This time Wolfram caught a glimpse of a tentacle taking hold of the ship. _It's the Kraken, pulling the bigger ships out to safety in deep water!_ He didn't like to think of the full size of that kraken, if its tentacle was thicker than a strong man's torso. Other kraken appeared to be pushing rocks up against the seawall, which Erick and his men shifted into place. They packed the huge blocks with wet sand, which the fire Maou Aldrich _melted_ into a mortar of glass, to hold the rocks in place. Billows of steam often obscured the team from view.

In half an hour, Garena suddenly appeared among the wall-repair group, urgently waving them all back to the booth where Wolfram waited. As the wind and water users ceased their efforts, the renewed brunt of the storm nearly pitched them all into the harbor. A huge wave sluiced through the low spot left in the wall, and on into the harbor. The new stone-sealing held perfectly. The waves breaking through the wall did no damage to wall or port or city. The dangerously crowded port had been thinned of its biggest ships, so the remainder had more leeway around their moorings. It would be enough – Krennhaven would weather the storm.

At Shouri's yell of alarm, water and wind users hastily resumed their efforts, to cover a safer retreat back to the base of the wall. Wolfram cast another frozen wave to help protect them, too.

"_I like your trick, Lord Wolfram!" _Aldrich yelled to him, first back to the booth, carefully counting heads._ "I hope you'll teach me that one!"_

"_Dannikin taught me!"_ Wolfram replied with a fey grin. _"What's the hurry? Nothing's happening in the other well!"_ From the relative peace of the seawall's watch booth, he'd checked in on his _other_ now and then. They were simply walking across a field.

"_Garena says it's about to go sour,"_ Aldrich returned.

"_Garena! And you believe him?"_

Aldrich shot Wolfram a puzzled look. _"Of course I do! Uncle Garena's reading the future."_ He paused and considered Wolfram. _"You and your father should trust your grandfather, Wolfram. He doesn't talk much. But he loves you!"_

Wolfram pursed his lips. _Garena loved the other-Manfred, and the other-Wolfram. Not us._ _And as for reading the future - who's to say whose side he's on? _But he said nothing. He looked out the seawall, but couldn't see Garena anymore.

"_He's gone ahead!"_ Aldrich said.

Then both of them gasped, feeling their _other's_ sudden panic, at seeing Dietrich possessed. Wolfram sat abruptly on a bench. Aldrich sagged into the doorframe.

When Aldrich caught his breath, he yelled, _"HURRY!"_ to the others on the seawall. But with his son on the line, this just wasn't enough. _Nothing_ was enough!

With a surge of resolve and adrenaline, of the kind that lets an ordinary father pull a burning beam off his child, Aldrich reached within and _demanded_ his full Maou's powers, _here_ and _**now!**_ Blue-orange lightning played all around him, and Aldrich stretched out his hand. Tendrils of his fire healer maryoku reached out to grasp everyone still on the seawall, and reeled them into the booth. Those same tendrils bound them all fast together.

Then Aldrich himself reached for Morgif's hilt, to shift them all back to Blood Pledge Castle. _This_ time, Morgif obeyed him.

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

Amongst the raging chaos that had descended on the blasted ruins of Shinou's temple, Yuuri stood calm and centered, transfixed, his eyes on the priestess Ulrike. Puppets sprang from the ground, from the air. Yuuri's forces swirled into battle. Prince Wolfram ran screaming to his beloved Dietrich, only to be thrown back thirty feet by a blast from Dietrich's arm. Dietrich's head lolled back, in loud and evil cackling. Friedrich and his wife Alana and her niece-and-heir the priestess Ilya, wove a huge majutsu warding, and used it to advance on the possessed young man. Wolfred and Günter sprang to action, guarding Yuuri and the Keys from behind, among the few so fluent in battle as to keep their heads without a moment's pause, _especially _when the Plan went FUBAR. Thus prompted, the other Kings sprang to guard Yuuri's party from the Dietrich-side, the front, though Lord Aldrich's attention was sorely split.

But Yuuri watched Ulrike.

The tiny priestess stood, long lavender hair flowing, white-draped arms in the air, frozen for decades in the pose of casting the spell that bound her in this accursed place. In ultra slow motion, her arms lowered. Sensing eyes upon her, she turned. Her eyes lit on Yuuri's, and her trusting childlike face broke into a smile of pure happiness. She grasped her hands before her prayerfully.

"Maou heika!" she cried in rapture, to this double-black young man whom she'd never set eyes on in the flesh. "I knew you'd come, to save us all!"

"Ulrike," Yuuri breathed, hand unconsciously reaching toward her.

The spell broke, and her face _aged_. The child became a young woman, the young woman a matron, the matron a crone, the crone decrepit. In moments, she sank to the ground, and kept sinking into her clothes, then fell to dust which flew away, until even the clothes fell to dust, and blew away too.

"Ulrike," Yuuri breathed again.

"Eh, Shibuya," prodded Murata. He stood beside Yuuri, but watched more than just Ulrike. "We have to free Shinou, or we don't stand a chance here."

"Right," said Yuuri sadly. _All that Ulrike sacrificed herself for… We can only defeat Shoushu with four Maous against him. If instead we __**three**__ have to fight Soushu __**and Shinou**_, _we cannot win. _

Yuuri reached in his mind to _other_-Yuuri, to prompt them to get ready on the other side, in his own Shin Makoku. And he was dumbfounded.

_Other-Yuuri, dangling in mid-air, held in a tentacle of blue-orange fire, above a night-cloaked storm-wracked seawall, waves limned in fire, wild wind and rain slashing, and kraken pulling ships out into the wild sea. _

_We're fine!_ Hon-Yuuri professed. _Don't worry about us! All under control here! Ah, I think._

Shin-Yuuri pursed his lips and yanked his attention back to the problems at hand. _I __**don't **__want to know! Suffice it to say, no help there. _

The Plan was to establish an orderly perimeter, held by the five Kings, to guard Yuuri and the Keys while they wrested Shinou from Soushu. _Well, we __**were**__ in fairly good order… _"Need to get this back under control," he replied to Murata.

Murata worried a lip with his thumb. "Could get worse instead of better."

As King, Yuuri'd had sad experience with Murata's understressed warnings. He shot his friend a sour look. "Uh, yeah. Alright. Conrad, Gwendal! Aldrich, Cecilie! To me!" There was no need to call Hon-Wolfram - the short prince hung suspended between his tall Shin-brothers, forcibly restraining him from running to Dietrich. The von Gratz brothers, Hon-Prince Adelbert and Shin-Lord Brendan, manhandled the fourth box into the tableau. Yuuri sadly noted that they placed it exactly where Ulrike had stood so long on guard.

"Last time Soushu took the keys by force," commented Gwendal. "Do we wait?"

"No," replied Yuuri grimly. "Everything he learned in our well, he knows in this well. We have to open the boxes. Wolfram - _Prince Wolfram! _- are you ready?"

Wolfram shot a glance at Dietrich in anguish. The lovely youth was caught in a spiderweb of shining force, anchored on Friedrich, Alana, and Ilya. And he was laughing his head off at his captors. Wolfram gulped, and tore his eyes away, steeling himself. "Yes, right. Let's do this."

"Aldrich?" Yuuri prompted kindly. With difficulty, Aldrich too pulled his gaze off his _other-_son Dietrich, and nodded.

Gwendal and Brendan strode forward. Plying their swords like crowbars, they pried the top off the box called The End of the Wind. The warped old waist-high wooden box was completely empty, not a shred of maryoku in evidence. Cecilie stepped up to join them. She would be the Maou who faced the quarter of Soushu affixed by this box. She smiled assurance at her son, her normally saucy green eyes for once letting her age and loving wisdom show. Gwendal nodded back, closed his eyes, and bent his head into the box.

_"AHHH!" _Gwendal cried, clutching his eye in agony, thrown back into the waiting Adelbert. The box erupted in a searing purple pillar of light, pulsing and throbbing, but for the moment contained by Cecilie's spread arms, asserting her Maou will. Facing her across the box, a dark shadowy figure began to form, with eyes glowing like coals. Cecilie nodded grimly to Conrad. They wouldn't have a Maou for each box for this stage. She and Aldrich would have to handle two each, until Yuuri freed Shinou.

Brendan likewise helped Conrad pry open the The End of the Land box, and braced his back while Conrad thrust in his left arm. A second pillar of roiling light erupted, and the shadow form gained definition. Cecilie moved between the two boxes, in earnest concentration. Brendan helped Conrad back to sit by Gwendal, his arm useless. Then Brendan drew with Hon-Wolfram and Shin-Aldrich to the third box, The Frozen Soil of Hellfire. A third wooden top was pried off.

Yuuri willed confidence into his man Aldrich. _You can do this. It's a rough task for a beginner Maou, but all you need is your strength of love, and you're no beginner at that, Aldrich!_

Braced by Brendan, Wolfram had to lean his whole upper torso into the blank and empty box, to lower his heart into it.

Nothing happened.

"You need to give your heart willingly, in love, Wolfram," Aldrich encouraged him softly.

Prince Wolfram scrunched his eyes closed, and _willed_ himself to love Yuuri. But try as he might to shut out the sound, he could still hear sweet Dietrich's voice, contorted into cackling and catcalls at his captors.

_Aldrich!_ called _other-_Aldrich within. _You've got to hurry! I think Soushu is trying to use Dietrich to escape the nymphwall and cross into this well! I'm not sure how long I can hold him!_

Aldrich caught a fleeting glimpse of the ballroom at Blood Pledge, his own little Dietrich in his _other_'s arms, the rest of the group sorely distracted, instead of providing backup according to plan. _We're trying,_ he replied._ But your Wolfram can't give his heart to Yuuri while his lover's in danger. Who could? Tell my Wolfram he needs to help! He has to give his heart to Yuuri from there!_

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

"Father!" Aldrich cried. "You'll have to hold Dietrich, and push Soushu back into the other well. I _must_ help Aldrich on the other side. Can you do it?"

Friedrich nodded his determination, and took over with the child. Manfred tried to help, but Friedrich motioned him back. The elderly Lord, scarcely younger than Ulrike, had prodigious power and centuries of esoteric study. He lay his healing fire and complete love and devotion on Dietrich the boy, while simultaneously casting a majutsu shield around them both, and pushing Soushu back into the other well with all his will.

"Wolfram, the Prince can't give his heart to your Yuuri," Aldrich explained, taking Wolfram by the arms. "I was afraid of this. But I know you can do it from here. You need to help him, and I need to back up your Aldrich. Together, now -"

But Soushu knew full well their intent, their options, their weaknesses. And at this point, he still had all of Shinou's power in thrall.

Wolfram heard the cries of alarm, and on an instinctive level knew where his adored baby Bertram was in the room - right where the cries were coming from. He and Aldrich Maou both whirled to look. The beautiful toddler, with springy green-blond curls and the pudgy boneless posture of the very small, suddenly stood ramrod straight. His normally aquamarine eyes _glowed_ sky blue, pupil-less. His curls erupted in crackling blue lightning. _"Heheheh!"_ the toddler cackled, over and over, louder and louder.

_"Bertram!"_ Wolfram screamed in anguish. But Aldrich held him back, while Garena swooped down to hold the child, just as his twin Friedrich was holding and pushing back Soushu with Dietrich. They were enveloped in another blue-orange majutsu barrier, not nearly the strength of the nymphwall. But here, where Soushu was only just barely able to push through a toehold, a half-nymph wall would do.

Not that Garena taking care of Bertram helped Wolfram any. He gritted his teeth. Even if he trusted Garena - _and I __**don't!**_- what parent could really accept his threatened child was better off in another's hands? It was physical agony to tear his eyes from Bertram's plight. _I love Yuuri! _he cried to himself, cried to the _other-_Wolfram in another world._ I love him with all my heart! Give him my love! Give him my heart! Dammit!_

But it was no use. He could no more give his heart to Yuuri while Bertram was in danger, than _other_-Wolfram could give his heart to Yuuri while his beloved Dietrich was in danger.

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

Yuuri and Aldrich were both fully aware of what was happening at Blood Pledge. Yuuri's heart went out to his lover so far away.

"Tell him," he said gently to Prince Wolfram in person, and to Hon-Yuuri within, "tell Wolfram it's alright. I understand. And I love him." Not that it really was alright, given the circumstances. But he understood, and he loved, with deep compassion. And for Yuuri, logic never had anything to do with it. His heart went out fully to his husband.

Aldrich was much newer to this Maou business, and completely green on the battlefield, nausea and all. But his _other_ had regained his strength and confidence, and spoke within. _Find another way. You can do this. I'm completely behind you. And I believe in you._ The first reaction on hearing this was doubt. But Aldrich Maou knew, as Aldrich himself did, that in unconditional love, you just keep loving steadfastly through the doubt, until the other accepts it. Love dissolves the other's self-doubt.

_Alright. There is a way. What is that way… _Unnoticed by himself, Aldrich had finally reached that center that Yuuri knew so well, the calm, the assurance, the knowing. His blue-blond hair rose, snaking with blue-gold maryoku, the overflow of a fully engaged Maou. The Aldrichs could no longer tell which of them was speaking a thought. They thought as one. _The heart key, of a von Bielenfeld. A descendent of Rufus von Bielenfeld! _ He laughed softly. _On this field of Aristocrats, who __**isn't**__ a descendent of Rufus?_

_A direct male descendent of Rufus, who can give his whole heart to Yuuri. Ah, yes. This well couldn't produce even one of these._

Aldrich gently pushed Wolfram aside. And he thrust his own torso into the box.

_Yuuri, my liege, I give you my heart._

A third pillar of light burst forth from the box as Aldrich collapsed.

-oOo-

_Yeah, I was going to finish the battle in this chapter, sorry. But this is a nice place to end a chapter… _

_Please review? I get discouraged when I don't get reviews. _


	15. Soushu

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Summary: Yuuri feared for racial conflict in his people's future. But he never dreamed that he could lose his past, and with it the Wolfram who would love him.

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

**Chapter 15 – Soushu**

_Well of the One King_

Shin-Wolfram, still attuned to Hon-Wolfram, gasped and reeled into Aldrich Maou. But the king had no time for Wolfram's feelings. He thrust the young man onto Manfred, and sank into his armchair. He shielded his face in his hands, and concentrated for all he was worth on the other side.

Manfred took Wolfram in alarm. "Son! Tell me! What happened?" It was maddening to be _'in charge'_ of the kingdom, yet be one of the few in this room who couldn't see what was happening in the battle with Soushu.

"Aldrich! He -! Oh, Chichiue, Aldrich gave his heart to Yuuri instead of me!" In his perfectly self-centered misery, Wolfram hadn't a thought for _Manfred's_ feelings.

Manfred held Wolfram at arm's length, mouth half-open in a snarl of shock and anger, and a sudden intense dislike for his firstborn. "Cecilie," he said coldly. "Take him."

As Hon-Cecilie pulled him to her bosom, and guided him to stand by Bertram, Wolfram belatedly realized what he'd dumped on his father. In shock, he pulled away and looked back. But Manfred had already turned his back on them, shoulders heaving with the effort of getting his emotions back under control.

Cecilie enfolded Wolfram back in her embrace, and bathed him in an almost palpable love and devotion. She murmured, "Oh, Wolfie, leave him be. When things are moving this fast, sweetling, you musn't dwell on a moment ago, or tomorrow. Right now, Bertram is safe with Garena. And on the other side, the real battle is just beginning. Stay in the now just as fiercely as you can, darling! Do the best you can right now, and leave the rest for another time."

-oOo-

_Well of the Five Kings_

Shin-Cecilie's eyes barely widened at the shock of Aldrich having opened the third box. Yet, face white with the strain, she smoothly shifted again, to stand behind the middle of the three boxes, arms wide, controlling the surging purple power. The shadowy form across from her now had color as well as definition. He was still partly transparent, but recognizably _Shinou_. Though this Shinou had eyes blazing red-black malice and madness.

Lord Brendan, shocked and frightened, pulled his fallen best friend and mentor Aldrich up, from where he lay slumped head-first into the box. He'd heard all the details of Yuuri's first confrontation with Soushu, and the group had reviewed the events in the well between worlds. So Brendan checked Aldrich's pulse, and as expected, found none.

Yet when Brendan clutched Aldrich upright, Aldrich spoke, as in a trance. "Yuuri. Do it now."

Brendan frantically checked his pulse again, and verified it was still gone. "Sire!" he warned. "I think he's possessed!"

"Yes," Aldrich said, still dreamily. "This is Aldrich Maou. Yuuri. Do what needs to be done."

Yuuri looked into Aldrich's eyes, and found them the same beautiful clear green as always, the same color as his Wolfram's, though much different in shape, with their long elfin tilt, and unfocused. _Other-Yuuri,_ he inquired within. _Is this indeed Aldrich? Or a puppet of Soushu?_

Hon-Yuuri replied in awe, _I dunno, it could be Aldrich. _He took a deep breath. Several years of Japanese _the-nail-that-sticks-out-gets-hammered-in_ socialization dropped from his shoulders, as he too finally found the calm center Shin-Yuuri knew so well. He saw and owned his own heart, his intuitive knowing, for the first time in years. _Yes. I feel it, this is Aldrich. Do it, keep going, release the last box!_

And just as Hon-Yuuri accepted his own knowing, so did Shin-Yuuri. He nodded assurance at Brendan, and strode to the last box, The Mirror Beneath the Sea. He drew Morgif and tapped the box. Its top flew off without any need for crowbar-style prying.

Unlike the other boxes, this one wasn't empty. The great nymph Quercus' shenanigans with arranging for a spare Earth, had provided not only a second copy of the last box, but also a duplicate of Suzanna Julia's jewels. Unlike the jewels Yuuri wore at his neck, which glowed in his signature water maryoku of brilliant sky blue, these glowed with Aldrich's special plant fire healer maryoku. Yuuri smiled, and raised his arm.

The jewels floated over to drape Aldrich's neck. And this newest Maou took a deep breath, and smiled his fullest lopsided make-my-day smile in return, elfin-tilted eyes no longer vague in the slightest, but awake and alive with intelligence. His full-body glow of frolicking Maou power, lifting clothing and blue-blond hair, gently pushed Brendan back. Aldrich raised his arms to match Cecilie's, and she shifted back to stand across from him, behind Gwendal's box. They nodded to each other in salute, and then did the same to Yuuri, and he to them.

Yuuri had no body part to dip into the box. His very soul was the last key. So, simply as a gesture of intent, he took his drawn sword and lowered it into the box, his eyes fixed on the apparition of Shinou all the while. "Shinou, with all my soul, I call you _back!"_ he cried out.

Wolfram, Brendan, and the other onlookers not pressed by battle at present, gasped. A fourth pillar of noxious purple light erupted from Yuuri's box. Shinou became fully formed, solid, his eyes shining blue, his face set in a fey smile of battle lust. He threw a hand in the air as though tossing coins, and three bright points of light arced to Conrad, Gwendal, and Aldrich. The lights rejoined their rightful owners with a jolt, restoring Conrad's arm, Gwendal's eye, and Aldrich's heart.

But a moment later, the four purple pillars writhed into life, joined with the purplish pinwheel of power overhead, lashed out, and plucked up Shinou and the other three Maous. The malicious power hung the quartet twelve feet in the air. Each Maou curled into a fetal ball, each glowing in his or her own signature maryoku colors, yet each encased in a red-purple outer sphere of hostile power, nearly large enough to reach down to the box each was suspended above. Occasional flashes of dark lightning zapped back and forth between the Maou-spheres, giving off a sharp tang of ozone. But within the spheres, the Maous curled motionless.

Soushu's puppets vanished. Dietrich collapsed limply to the ground. The much-pressed defenders let their weapons fall. Each reminded himself to stay vigilant, for the attack could resume at any moment. Yet instead, most stared mesmerized at the hanging orbs of Maou, dangling like giant evil Christmas baubles. They knew deep down that the invisible battle going on there, was the one that would determine whether they lived or died, and the very existance of the whole worlds they fought for.

Hon-Wolfram ran to Dietrich, pulled him up in an embrace, and whispered in his ear, "Sweet Diet! I may never be able to play rough with you again, after this." He smiled an evil green-eyed demon smile at his beloved.

Dietrich laughed softly, and met Wolfram's evil smile with an open green gaze of pure love. "Promises, promises, Wolfram!" He traced Wolfram's jaw with a finger, then nudged him away gently at the shoulder. "Go. Guard my father. I'm _fine_, Wolfram."

Friedrich replaced Wolfram at holding Dietrich, with Alana and Ilya still flanking him. Wolfram unsheathed his sword and took up station beside Brendan, keeping watch outward instead of inward on the strange final battle. Axel came up and joined them, out of stronger feelings for Aldrich than either man had yet dared to admit. Conrad and Adelbert likewise took station protecting Yuuri. Gwendal and King Adeldan sprung to guard Cecilie, and Wolfred and Günter took Shinou's back.

And they waited.

_-oOo-_

_In the Soul of a Maou_

_A beautiful glade, on the shoulder of mountain, once part of the vast lands of the troll Queen Natasha and King Vladimir of Trondheim. Where we first kissed. Shinou posed naked on a sun-warmed flat slab of grey granite, by a burbling mossy spring. Before him, his beloved Daikenja sat on a stump, sketching him with a slip of charcoal, on a block of creamy fresh parchment._

"How shall I draw you?" Daikenja asked, just a hint of intimacy peeking through his habitual reserve. "As Accursed Shinou, the Genocide of Trondheim? Torturer Shinou, bane of the von Bielenfelds? Tyrant Shinou, who ruled Shin Makoku from the grave for four thousand years? And not just one Shin Makoku, oh no! _All _ the little Shin Makokus, one too big, one too small, one too hot, one too cold, until he found one that was _just right -"_

Shinou laughed. "You're no more Daikenja than I am. Four thousand years I've been spliced into you, enslaved. Show yourself as you _really _ are, Prince of Darkness!"

"Tut-tut. We were discussing showing _you, _Shinou. Horns, do you think? Velvety leathery black wings? The genitalia - shall I shrivel them to raisins and a limp little noodle? Or engorge them to egg bags and a cudgel, to show you entirely in thrall to your base nature? Hm. They're both so fitting, I'm not sure how to choose." He cast a jaundiced eye at Shinou's crotch.

Shinou snorted softly, with a sad smile. "Bad aim. After four thousand years of abstinence, imprisoned between you, the taunting eunuch of darkness, and Quercus, the nagging eunuch of light? Your aim is off by thousands of leagues, by _millenia._ Draw me as a skull grinning in the sun, my pelvis half-buried and pushing daisies. _Soushu._"

"They forgave you, you know. Wasn't that sweet of them? The Tronds you massacred, the nymphs you enslaved, the von Bielenfelds you warped and maimed in return for their loyal service." Daikenja leaned forward a moment to adjust a tricky line on his sketch, then sat back with a quiet smile of aesthetic satisfaction. "Just like a mortal. _'I forgive you because you're no worse than I am.' _ How true. And how pathetic. The universal fraternity of sin and shared stunted moral stature. Their forgiveness is no more laudable, or cleansing, than the scapegoating of their more hypocritical peers. Which do _you_ prefer, Shinou? The hypocrites, who at least _see_ some higher ethical standard they can't reach? Or the _forgivers,_ who humor your shared moral runt-hood?"

"I preferred Quercus. His survival-of-the-fittest laissez-faire morality seemed far more elastic and joyous than the impossible standards you set, in order to trick mortals into feeding you from the power of their failings." Shinou stared his adversary straight in the eye. "Though you're both a pain in the ass."

Daikenja glowered at him. The sketch-pad had vanished, and the double-black's eyes glowed maroon. Then he crooked a grin, in a sneering expression that had never marred Daikenja's face. "But we digress. You can't go back to being a mortal, Shinou. There is no return, no way out. Bertram? You attempt to stuff a grown dragon back into a little quail egg? You've done your _'parents'_ no favors there! Bertram will _never_ be a normal happy little boy, the way you hope!"

"You're wrong," returned Shinou, with affable conviction. "My _'Chewy 'n' Wimpy' _ adore me, just as I am. And I'm happy as a lark._ In fact..."_

_The distant mountain glade vanished, replaced by the far more riveting and marvelous realm of _

_Gamma's flower garden! A picnic! With __**everybody! **__Gamma, and Gren and Grendel and Nishna, and Conrad and Yozak, and Chi-Bert, and - __**squee! **__ - Effum and Manchu and Old-Chewy visiting! And of course Chewy and Wimpy and the gurrls and the little babies!_

_And Bertram cried 'BITE ME!' and thrilled to playing 'bad boy' with Effum and Chewy! And he cried 'BERTUM LOVE CHEWY!' and basked in the warm happy cuddly of playing 'good boy'! And Chewy and Manchu, and Effum and the uncles, played young at heart, like Bertram, and thrilled to a rolicking game of good-boy-bad-boy, and helped him dig for worms! _

_But today Gamma, Wimpy, and Old-Chewy played grown-up. They just loved him and loved him and loved him! _

And Shinou _reached -_

-oOo-

_In Friedrich's art studio at Castle Bielenfeld, with its long window-wall of northern exposure, looking down on the wooden working-class warrens of Castletown. The light today was depressed by a November rain. As always, the studio reeked of honey-bear-bee excrement paints. Friedrich, paintbrush in hand, sat surrounded by canvases sporting a rainforest riot of brilliant colors splashed on surrealist canvases. Today his subject was apparently an impressionist nightmare-scramble nude of - _her.

After her parents died in Moron von Bielenfeld's outrageous finale, Cecilie and Stoeffel were raised by local regents at home in Spitzweg. Second-rank nobles, these, whom they kept entirely wrapped around their little fingers. However, as Aristocrats, the spoiled darlings didn't answer to _them_, but rather to their ranking surviving relative - Friedrich, her grandmother Emeraude's brother. Above all meetings, spoiled and petted young Cecilie had most dreaded being called onto _this_ carpet.

"So, great-niece, are we making progress, hm? Seems last time we had a heart-to-heart was just before you ended your _third_ self-centered marriage, to Manfred. A match made in _hell, _yes. We explored the concept of living up to the highest, rather than the basest, in your nature at that time, yes? Finding a mission, a purpose, a _worthy _ one, one befitting an Aristocrat and retired Maou? And since then, you've done… _what,_ exactly?"

Cecilie stepped over to a plain white dust drape on a sculpture, whisked it off and draped it on herself instead, toga-style. "There's nothing beautiful or alluring about putting it all out in the shop window, Uncle," she chided flirtatiously. "A beautiful woman knows it's all about _mystique._"

Friedrich snorted. "How characteristically _deep_ of you, Cecilie. Hard to imagine why a nation would toss up such an accomplished and hedonistic _slut _as yourself, in favor of a completely unknown _child _from another world, yes? Or have you… managed to figure that out yet, dear?" Friedrich inquired with a pained expression, as of a teacher who tried to be sympathetic and encouraging to a young student, yet winced at just how stubbornly _stupid_ the kid was.

"Ah, _Soushu_, good try," pronounced Cecilie confidently. "But your acting needs work. Beneath my great-uncle's acid sarcasm lay a deep reservoir of humility and black humor. You're portraying him as simply _mean,_ and Friedrich was never that. Would that he were. His barbs wouldn't have hurt _nearly_ as much."

"You provided the identity of your touchstone, not I." Unfazed, the ersatz Friedrich mixed up a particularly garish shade of red-purple to splash on her tongue, relocated on the canvas to reach for her own vulva. From this angle, Cecilie could see the increasingly lurid canvas, though she tried not to look. The fact that he'd painted the private region quite accurately was unnerving. That, and the fact the adjoining spread thigh ended in one of Gwendal's knitted teddy bears. _Now that's truly obscene._

"Who would you have preferred then?" Friedrich continued. "Yuuri? The boy's too incurably pure to rate a notch on your lipstick. Your first husband, Hugh Lord Walde? But that's so _dead,_ and done with, since you're hardly ruling a country anymore. Your second, Dan Hiri Weller? He dumped you, didn't he? In order to do something more_ important _than simply serving as your bed boy. Though of course you soothed your ego by continuing to shack up with him after the divorce, to the vast discomfort of your demon sons. In any case, he was a human mayfly, gone within decades, of no account. My beloved great-grandson Manfred? _You,_ care about _his _good opinion? Don't make me laugh. You show the scullery maids more respect than you ever did Manfred. One of the most brilliant and upstanding Aristocrats of his generation, and you made of him your sex toy and whipping boy. _Literally._"

All the jibes hurt, but Cecilie _winced_ at that one. "Yes, I've behaved badly with Manfred. But he's forgiven me, and he's happy with Aldrich now. I annulled the marriage and set Manfred free. We've become friends, of a sort. I've made amends as best I could."

It occurred to her, though, that she was letting Soushu get the upper hand, by going on the defensive. _No! I forgive me. I accept my mistakes and love me anyway. Not as a simple narcissistic idiot. But as a wisely selfish divine fool. _She laughed softly at herself. She knew what she meant, though she wouldn't care to repeat it aloud. Except perhaps to Friedrich - oddly enough, she rather thought Friedrich had the sublety to appreciate that one. _Too bad I'm not talking to Friedrich._

"Well, hate to model and run, Soushu. A pity you chose to play Friedrich. The best part of posing nude is always that romp of inspirational nookie afterwards. But I'd never manage to trip my great-uncle into bed. So, I'll have to simply say _'Thank you!'_ and leave it at that! And truly, I _am_ grateful. What you've been saying has helped enormously. I _have _been carrying that useless baggage around in my heart. Condemning myself for having made mistakes? Ah, but those mistakes are my greatest treasure, from which springs the wealth of wisdom."

In humor and love, and deep humility, she _reached_ for her partners, Yuuri, Aldrich, and Shinou.

Soushu really had helped, whether he intended to or not. She still _had _harbored feelings of inferiority and a guilty conscience toward these great men.

But not anymore. Her heart felt light as a child chasing butterflies in the garden, completely free of the self-conscious discomfort of self-judgment. She pictured Yuuri, face glowing in that infinitely soft smile, as she often saw him late at night, after a hard day of kingcraft among the obstreperous, gazing down on his babies in the dark nursery. She pictured Aldrich at his most off-duty, sleeves rolled up on a worn old embroidered Trondish tunic, as she helped him prune his peonies, and they laughingly reminisced over the juiciest bits of gossip of yesteryear. And she pictured her very favorite of duties as Maou, the presentation of infants to Shinou. _Here, Shinou, I bring you your newest __**demons. **__As if we ever aspired to be __** angels!**_

Chuckling, Cecilie _reached -_

-oOo-

_Just after sunset, a lurid red glow still backlit the surrounding peaks. A few brilliant huge diamond stars already graced the deep blue-black sky. In the glass pyramid of the rubyfruit orchard at Trond Hall, Aldrich's special place in his other home. He breathed deep of the health-bringing citrus tang with profound satisfaction and joy. Then he saw a companion in his local paradise - Uncle Otto, his mother's late brother, his late foster-brother Franklin's late father. _

_Late, late, and more late. So many dead danced with the ghosts. How does Father bear it, the centuries of dead friends, to survive them all, surrounded by more and more ghosts of times gone forever. Eventually the young, and the new, must seem faded, overwhelmed by the vividness of the departed. Uncle Otto died young, as a Trond man should, virile and fearless. We Trond revere the canny old crone. But we despise the cautious old man._

_Kindly Uncle Otto was dead by my age._

Not that Otto appeared as he had _then,_ healthy and strong, if still rather stunted for a half-troll. Instead, Otto appeared as he did when Aldrich was very small, back in his earliest memories. Otto was gaunt and half-starved in spring, when Aldrich came. Not as bad as in mid-winter, when his huge skeleton showed painfully clear, skin stretched thin between massive bones, muscle dwindled to threads, concave chest wracked by constant coughs. Otto would never eat more than his subjects, at Trond Hall. Franklin, too - no more than a distended potbelly with sticks for limbs, and huge hungry eyes, in winter, in those early years after the Great War. Even later, Otto and Franklin remained frailer than young Ted and Erick, who grew up after starvation was at last conquered in these rugged mountains. The young ones had never suffered the scurvy, the epidemic influenzas and grinding colds and pneumonias that ruled here before the rubyfruit grew, before the industries thrived that traded up grain and potatoes.

_"Shamshesh allem,_ Uncle," greeted Aldrich, with the first words of the joyous Trond prayer for the dead. _Shamshesh alte'in_ was the normal greeting, but Otto _was _dead, after all. _As are Franklin, and Glynda, Wolfred and Julius and Adeldan, and so many others…_

Otto's purple eyes lit in sincere religious joy, within his gaunt-starved face. "Yes, _shamshesh allem _indeed, Ricky!" The dead didn't, _shouldn't,_ faze a Trond. Otto was a shaman-priest of the ghosts of Trondheim, after all. As was Aldrich, though his dead had been unusually unquiet this past week. "You live yet, Rick! And married a man? So strange. I'll never understand your down-below customs. What point, to marry a man?"

"I love him, Uncle Otto. We have children together. I'm a… mother now. Of sorts."

Otto smiled sadly, and shook his head. "You're a _man,_ not a mother, little Rick. Not for us the path of women, but to _protect_ them, to _work,_ to _serve_ the mothers. To grow strong and _father_ an uptroll child. Not to _become _a mother!"

"Is that how you died? You bred uptroll?" Franklin had never told Aldrich, or any of the demon lords. At least, not in so many words. But Otto had reached his two centuries. It was time for him to _'go to the trolls'._

"Of course. I bred with Troll Mother herself, to father a Daughter to follow Alana someday, and rule as Queen of the trolls again. Ah, Rick, the exquisite pleasure, joy beyond imagining! But I was weak, and perished of the pleasure. But you are strong, and may survive. To _father _a child, even if it be your death. It is your destiny, after all, not to _retire in comfort! _Oh, son. You've lost your way."

"I'm not lost, Uncle. I simply _survived._ Is it so wrong, to seek to be _happy_ now? Trondheim is safe. I met my challenges. Even Troll Mother was satisfied, and laid down her long life at last. The trolls are restored."

"No," said Otto, in a voice as close to harsh as the soft-spoken man ever got. "The trolls are still ruled by _demons,_ Aldrich! This is unnatural, this simply cannot be. It's _wrong,_ son. Trolls are stronger, smarter, wiser than the small races. Rick, they destroy their forests, endanger the wildlife, live out of harmony, almost as foolishly as the little humans. No, Rick, you know better than this. The trolls are not restored until they are ruled by a troll Queen again, freed from the overlordship of the demons."

"They're _both_ my people, Uncle. Equally. I'm a quarter nymph, as well as a quarter troll. And elf and goblin and demon besides! My youngest children are also quarter nymph -"

"You are _troll! _You cannot trust the nymphs, Rick."

"Like you, _Soushu?_ You're not Uncle Otto."

"What was your first clue?"

Aldrich laughed out loud. It was just too incongruous to hear the modest martyr Otto utter such a snarky comment. _Sounds more like my father! _They'd made quite the pair, earnest young Otto, and his sponsoring overlord, the viciously sarcastic little Friedrich. "Oh, well," Aldrich sighed, still chuckling. "I guess I was enjoying my chat with Otto too much, wasn't I? But right, then. On to business."

"You're no Maou, Rick. That you would even _think_ of abandoning all that is troll, to join forces with _Accursed Shinou_ and his -"

"Well, Maou for a day, at least. It is sad, that Uncle never understood that, about Ilya and me. That we worshipped Shinou and the ancestors equally. It's a _choice_, you see. We _choose_ to love, to heal strife, to join together. Cecilie and I, even Shinou himself, we follow Yuuri quite joyously. He is the youth, the divine fool, without our centuries of wisdom and knowledge of the past, but instead only the breathtaking audacity of pure innocence, who knows not that the dream is impossible, so attains it anyway. _However._ As my children and husband often remind me, I talk too much. Thank you, Soushu. That was a great gift, to converse with Uncle Otto one last time. Bless you."

A smiling Aldrich _reached -_

-oOo-

Alone among them, Yuuri'd been almost looking forward to this part of the Big Battle thing. Sure, the first two or three completely insane, disjointed conversations with Shinou, usually in his mother's living room in Tokyo, had been a bit scary. But they'd kind of grown on him. During the actual schizophrenic chat, he rarely understood two manic sentences in a row, but they sort of dripped back into his consciousness over the following months. And each time, by fits and drabs, he came to understand a little more of his… _Yuuri-Shinou-Maou-plex _existence. It was good for him. So he welcomed the lesson, in much the same way people paid good money to get cavities filled, and relaxed into the dentist chair.

Of course, he'd unconsciously just _assumed_ he was meeting with Shinou again.

_Atop a tower in the middle of - oh, no. Not that... _

He recognized the tower of course, as did many people around the world, at least in its later skeletal memorial form…. But not from school field trips. For those, his class visited Kyoto or Kamakura or Nikko. No, his jet-setting international parents brought him here. His friends thought they were sick. At the moment, the tower stood upright. In his hand was this morning's newspaper. Yuuri didn't need to read the date.

_August 6, 1945, Hiroshima. A bright sunny morning, just after 8 a.m. _He could hear the approach of the B-29's. _No air raid sirens, for only three bombers._

Not Shinou, but Quercus spoke from beside and slightly behind him, so softly that it was as though Yuuri heard his own conscience. "Do you want to know what drove Soushu insane, Yuuri?"

"No," Yuuri replied emphatically. He really _didn't_ want to know, didn't want to look, didn't want to think about it, and most _definitely_ didn't want to stay here until the B-29 bomber named _Enola Gay _dropped hell's little gift on this beautiful shining water-clad city. _But, wait… _He frowned. "That was four thousand years ago, that Soushu tried to destroy the world, and Shinou stopped him. This was only 60 years ago." _Four thousand years ago, on Earth, what was happening? _Yuuri had never liked history. _Maybe Egypt and China were around?_

"Yes and no," replied Quercus. Yuuri was intensely aware that the B-29's were still approaching, which made it hard to listen to the nymph. "Time runs differently here. Let's see, Shinou's father… ah, yes. This well was abandoned by the angels at the fall of Alexander the Great. Shinou captured Soushu - and all the other nymphs - later, around 2,000 years ago." Even with his attention divided between the B-29's and Quercus' voice, this struck Yuuri as a curious mix of precision and vagueness. _Alexander the Great?_

Quercus continued, "Not that it matters much, to a great nymph. And Soushu was the greatest, farthest-seeing of them all. Not very comfortable, is it, Yuuri? To stand here, knowing what is about to happen to those people you see below you on the street? And even for them, it isn't so bad. They die instantly, here. It's a great deal worse a few kilometers out. They'll die far more slowly, in agony. But you know all that.

"Soushu created this well, the _true_ well, the original. Your adopted well, the happy world of Shin Makoku, where problems are easy to solve, that was an alternate, a refuge we created when we abandoned Earth. A profound violation of the nymph fundamental principle of non-interference, of the One Law.

"Point being, Yuuri, you _know_ what Soushu saw, in the coming two millenia. Don't you." This was spoken as accusation, not question. "Shall I show you, Yuuri? Shall I show you just a little sampler of the future - now your _past_ - which drove Soushu to take supreme responsibility, and end it _all?"_

"I think I've got the gist, thanks," said Yuuri sadly. "Can we leave now, before -"

No, apparently, he couldn't. He saw the bomb begin to unfold in its blossom of death, 2,000 feet above the city. He felt Shinou and Cecilie and Aldrich reaching for him, but he hesitated to reach back. _I don't want to show them this. Their world has never known such evil, such horror. To think once I was worried to be a 'demon', so evil. But I knew all along. I come from far deeper evil than I pray they'll ever know. This, today, this wasn't the depth of depravity in this war. More like a cauterizing iron on an amputated gangrened limb, applied to save the rest of the patient._

_I don't want them to see me like this. Their peace-loving king. Heir to a history of nightmares they can't begin to imagine._

_I… do understand. _Yuuri felt his Maou partners reaching for him more strongly, but he still didn't reach back. He watched. He watched the mushroom cloud unfold, the blast strike nearly straight down into the center of Hiroshima in front of him, watched the wave of destruction ripple out, buildings shatter to dust before they even fell. His eyes, nonphysical of course, could see this through the nuclear brightness, despite the soot, despite the crashing tsunami of dust and the dead.

_Yuuri, come take my hand, _invited Cecilie. _I love you, son, beloved of my darling Wolfie!_

_Yuuri, whatever you face, let us help you, _encouraged Aldrich. _Don't face it alone, Sire. _

_Trying to hog all the glory, Wimpy?_ teased Shinou. _It takes a hell of a lot to drive God mad. Cut the hubris, and let us help you already!_

_I can't,_ Yuuri replied in his mind, crying inside, watching the horror reach outward. The blast limit had been reached. The devastation was at that radius Quercus had mentioned a moment ago. Where people weren't vaporized, but rather irradiated in a flash. Patterns of their summer yukata burned into the skin, eyes and faces melted like wax, trees catching fire -

_Sire, I love you,_ said Aldrich. _There is nothing you can face that I can't face with you. There is no evil you have done that I do not share. Please, Yuuri, take my hand. _

And Aldrich appeared before him, grasping his hands, blocking the view of Hiroshima with his great green elfin-tilted eyes. A moment later, Cecilie appeared, leaning her head on Aldrich's shoulder and smiling at Yuuri. She put a hand to his cheek with a loving smile.

Last came Shinou, in his more familiar form these days.

"Wimpy UP!" demanded Bertram.

Yuuri laughed in surprise and swooped him up. Bertram swung an arm around in triumph. "Gamma garden picnic!"

And indeed it was. Wolfram smiled a beautiful private smile at Yuuri, and sort-of waved his butt suggestively, while smoothing out a picnic blanket in the back garden. Ekaterin baby-chortled beside him in her basket, while Greta and Frieda dangled bright knitted balls over her. Yuuri's parents and brother stood chatting with Conrad, Yozak's arm thrown casually over his shoulder. Gwendal apparently hadn't hidden quickly enough - he was heavily laden, serving as porter for Annissina, who herself carried only baby Grendel. Manfred and Adelbert held Manfred's twins, and joked with the boys, Efram, Dietrich, and Trenton. And somehow beyond them, Yuuri could see all his other friends, throughout the world of Shin Makoku, smiling and laughing and striving in their own places.

"That's our answer, Soushu," Yuuri said, to Quercus-Soushu. "Is there evil, do people do horrific things, are there nearly impossible problems? Yes. Yes, there is all that. But there is also this. And the choice to do better, get it more right, solve the problems, do the next right thing, one person's worth. And even if we just screwed up over and over again, there's the joy and love right here that we're sharing.

"You've said the evil is too great, the world - all three of our worlds - must be destroyed to stamp out the evil, and the good is a necessary sacrifice. We say no. These are _our_ worlds, and the _good _is too great, too precious, to sacrifice for the evil."

The wriggling toddler in his arms suddenly grew heavier than Yuuri himself, and he dropped him. Bertram scampered to 'help' his Chewy, while Shinou as himself planted a big smacking kiss on Yuuri's cheek. "Well done, Wimpy!" he said.

The backdrop of _'Gamma's garden'_ faded away, into the undefined cloudstuff of uncreation. The four Maous encircled 'Quercus', joining hands. Soushu changed forms, in a rapid succession of nymphs - Quercus, Ponderosa, Tariel, Garena, Salix, Ceres, Rain, plus others they didn't know. Each successive form grew hazier than the last, darker, verging to purple-black.

The Maous _pressed _inward on Soushu, little by little. Occasional little fast jets tried to shoot out and escape, but were captured and forced back inward. The noisome purple form grew smaller, and smaller, until it was about the size of a basketball, hanging swirling between them.

Then in a flash of blinding light, followed by a brief torn-shaped hole of deepest black, it was gone.

-oOo-

_I hope that didn't come out too preachy. I really do have fun writing these disjointed 'Shinou' scenes! - Much easier than juggling a cast of tens through a battle._

_So, denouement time. Now would be a good time to submit requests - I may pick and choose which plot threads to resolve and which to leave dangling._

_Please review? I get discouraged when I don't get reviews. _


	16. Bad Moon Rising

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

**Chapter 16 – Bad Moon Rising**

_Well of the Five Kings_

Soushu vanished, conquered within the souls of the four Maou acting as one. The throbbing white light nymphwall dissolved over Shinou's blasted temple. But though nearly midnight, it was not dark. Specks of silver light drifted up from every living thing, every blade of grass, every fighter on the wet November field. The scene was limned in a soft glow, as of moonlight. The black stormclouds above tattered in a crosswind, blowing now out to sea. Stars shone through ragged platinum holes.

Those few, like Conrad and Gwendal, who had met the phoenix, looked down at their hands in wonder. This light was much like the overflow of maryoku they'd seen in the sacred glade of the phoenix reborn. But this power was not of fire. It seemed somehow more elemental than the familiar elements of fire and air, earth and water. All the fighters on the field gazed about themselves dreamily, feeling lapped by a joyous serenity like never before, utterly certain that the battle was over, that the field was won.

The silver specks flocked especially thickly on the four Maou, who still hung suspended in baubles of their own maryoku, though the hostile black-purple outer spheres were gone. The silvered spheres drifted down, and gently spilled their Maou out onto the cold grass, lying feet together, heads pointed outward. Their bodies wrote the same X on the ground, as Morgif had sliced across the sky of old, when Shinou split Soushu asunder, to cage him in four boxes. Now the four Maou slept, glowing.

The others stood in awe. Prince Wolfram gazed in wonder with all the rest. But his grandfather King Wolfred stepped forward and experimentally prodded Yuuri with a toe. Yuuri slept on, oblivious. Conrad, still defending Yuuri, shoved Wolfred toward the center of the X.

Wolfram_sneezed._ He rummaged hurriedly in a pocket for a handkerchief. And he sneezed again - _hard. "Ow, ow, OW!" _He sneezed again and again into the handkerchief, stomping a booted foot and swearing a blue streak. _"Yuuri, _you _idiot! _You didn't tell me it would _HURT!" _And where his grandfather had gently prodded Yuuri, Wolfram hauled off and kicked him in the side.

And thus Prince Wolfram broke the spell that held the four Maou.

_"Oof!"_ objected Yuuri, rolling to rise on his knees and hand. "Celebrating our anniversary _early_, are you? You evil-tempered _vixen!"_ Yuuri caught Wolfram's leg and yanked it out from under him, to send him sprawling. Yuuri rubbed his injured side wonderingly. Prince Wolfram had managed to kick him in _exactly the same spot_ as his own Wolfram had kicked him nearly one year ago before Shinou's altar, at their finally successful wedding. _It's genetic… How in hell could that be genetic..._

An unrepentant Prince Wolfram, in the mud, _sneezed _ again into the handkerchief. He turned away, still holding his nose with the darkened cloth, still muttering, _"Ow, ow, OW!"_ Yuuri managed to contain his sympathy.

The other three Maou also began to stir. Shin-Günter knelt in reverence to help Blessed Shinou to his feet, as Shin-Gwendal assisted his mother, his stiff awkwardness concealing his love not at all. Hon-Axel, clandestine lover to Aldrich Maou, diffidently helped Lord Aldrich to a seated position before Aldrich waved him to stop. Aldrich rummaged quickly for a handkerchief, without success.

And Aldrich too sneezed. _Hard. _King Wolfred stepped up and supplied a handkerchief, with intent and hungry large green eyes.

Lord Brendan chuckled softly, on his knee behind them. "Went into battle_'pregnant',_ did you, Rick?"

Axel narrowed his eyes. His lover's sinus headaches after… a certain favored style of lovemaking… and Aldrich's strange collection of gaudy pumpkin seeds… suddenly appeared to Axel in a strange new light. He frowned. _But __**I**__ haven't made love to him this week! And why is __**Wolfred**__so intent on this?! And __**Wolfram's**__ sneezing too? 'Pregnant'? What in hell __**are**__ these seeds?_

Aldrich lay back in Axel's arms after one last hard sneeze, and closed his eyes. Wolfram still grasped his nose in pain, and grumbled luridly, but his sneezing also seemed to be spent.

Yuuri rose, dusting himself off, and began to say, "Well, we've -"

And then all of them disappeared, in a flash of green light, all who had twins in the _other_ Shin Makoku. Axel alone of the group at the battle's center had no _other_. He caught the handkerchief, where he'd been holding Aldrich's hand. He opened it gently. In the fading silver light, he beheld three pumpkin seeds, the largest and gaudiest he'd ever seen of Aldrich's peculiar seed collection. They practically pulsated with maryoku, nestled in the damp and bloodied fine linen, embellished with the Bielenfeld phoenix and King Wolfred's _WvB_ monogram.

"Bring me a torch!" he yelled back to his troops. In short order, he found Wolfram's dropped handkerchief, looking much the same, right down to the initials. The two seeds within were smaller. But they were every bit as much _alive._

"Your Grace…" interrupted the trooper who'd supplied the torch._"Look!"_ Duke Axel glanced up, and followed his arm pointing to the sky. A full moon was now visible through the breaking clouds. It was full and dark red-purple, and huge.

-oOo-

_Well of the One King_

In the grand ballroom at Blood Pledge, no one had much bothered to tell Manfred what was going on in the well of the five kings. The ones with _others_ in the battle were entirely too caught up in their internal visions. But Dietrich and Bertram were safe -_ thank Shinou! _ Friedrich and Garena held them close, just in case.

Then came a vast collective _sigh_ of satisfaction. Silvery maryoku particles began to rise from them all, including those solely of the well of the one king. The three Maou - well, five, including Yuuri's brother Shouri and Bertram - seemed especially magnetized to draw the silver specks. Attracting as full a share as the adult Maou, little Bertram shone like a torch. He grinned impishly and waved his arms around, still anchored about the waist by Garena's arm. The waving silver-lit arms and hands tricked the eye with light-trails, as with a sparkler, as though the little cherub had unfurled brilliant wings.

Shin-Wolfram broke out of his other-worldly reverie first, with a sneezing fit. Hon-Yuuri solicitously offered him a Kleenex. He was at a loss when Wolfram crumpled into his arms crying and nose-honking. But Yuuri valiantly tried to pat the blond's back reassuringly. "Aha! Ah, there, there, Wolfram! Your own Yuuri's only sleeping, I'm sure! He'll be back soon -" Yuuri abruptly stopped emitting platitudes, and twisted his mouth wryly, when he felt _other-_Yuuri awaken to a vixen-kick.

When Aldrich roused and started sneezing too, Manfred immediately produced his own elegant _MvB _gold-embroidered hankie. An old hand at easing his husband through seedbirth, Manfred lay a hand of healing fire across Aldrich Maou's face, and used his torso to shield him from view. A minute after Wolfram stopped honking and sobbing and _Ow!_ing, Aldrich leaned back in the chair, finished. He met Manfred's eyes with his own brilliant emerald ones, with their long curvy elfin orbits, touched with lavender grace notes in the eyelid shadows. It was a look of pure unconditional love.

The otherworldly Maou smiled slightly - a rare symmetric smile instead of his usual lopsided one. "Thank you, Manfred," he breathed. "For everything." And in a flash of light, Aldrich and all the other double-well twins, disappeared.

Manfred sighed. He winced an eye closed and hazarded a peek into the handkerchief. _Two seeds, particolored and oozing maryoku. Aw, hell, Aldrich. We've already got __**seven**__ children. Like we needed more?_

When Manfred looked up and around the room, much to his surprise, he found Garena still there, gazing into a wad of flimsy paper. Garena caught his gaze, and wrapped up the seeds. He gave them to Manfred, saying thoughtfully, "Keep these safe. I'll see you again soon… _son."_And before Manfred's rising brows could reach top, Garena also disappeared.

Shibuya Shouri joined Manfred as he opened the used tissue. _Three seeds, pulsating with life.__Yuuri's going to be as ecstatic as I am,_ thought Manfred wryly.

But Shouri said, "They're like the seeds I planted on Earth. That grew into the trees that Yuu-chan used to make gates between the worlds. Aren't they? Are these the seeds that will bring my people home?"

Annissina, baby Grendal in her arms, looked out the window at the breaking storm. "Lord Manfred," she called in low-voice warning. "This moon…"

Manfred thrust both cloths of seeds into his jacket and joined her at the window, his foster-son Trenton von Gratz and Greta and Shouri tagging along.

"It's not our moon, is it, Manfred Chichiue?" asked Trenton.

"What do you mean?" demanded Shouri.

Manfred pointed to the east. "It's midnight. Tonight the moon should be third quarter, and over there. And… white." And indeed, as he spoke, the dark clouds thinned to the east, and the hazy white crescent moon glowed through, its disk the same familiar size as Earth's moon to Shouri's eyes. "This purple one is... _new."_

Trenton's eyes grew huge and scared. But Greta leaned down and whispered in his ear, _ "Let's name him 'Neville'."_

-oOo-

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

The two-well twins appeared all at once, back in Tariel and Salix' flowery nymph glade between worlds. From the anxiety-ridden storm-tossed November night, it was a shock to suddenly emerge into the bright spring sun, under beautiful flowering trees. They laughed out loud at the release of tension. Where once the two sides of themselves had faced off across the glade - well of the one king selves to one side, well of the five kings selves on the other - now each twinned self stood side by side, all in a ring around the center, where Tariel and Salix stood.

The Aldrichs swooped onto their respective sons Dietrich with a cry of relief, and Hon-Wolfram tackled Hon-Dietrich from the other side. Yuuri was busy exchanging hugs with his Maou partners and Shin-Wolfram, and tossing his adopted son Bertram into the air to shrieks of giggles. It took Yuuri a few minutes to register that Tariel and Salix did not look happy. Indeed, they looked more anxious than Yuuri had ever seen them. _Except... just before we restored the nymphs. That night, Tariel looked despondent like this. But then, he realized it didn't have to be so bad. Didn't he?_

The other Mazoku about the glade also gradually finished their laughing hugs and handshakes. They likewise fell silent as they caught the mood of the somber childlike nymphs at their center, with the eight Maou's attention upon them.

The glade grew silent with expectant concern, all eyes turned to the nymphs. Tariel and Salix bowed. They both grew, as Tariel had before, to ten feet high or so, and raised tree seedlings, and by the sound, apparently grasses and water somewhere out of sight as well. The arrhythmic slow crash of surf was particularly odd, with no ocean or shore in sight of their hill, rising in the vast flat expanse of placid green fens.

As Tariel and Salix receded to their usual appearance, suddenly Quercus stood between them. At first, he looked as he had before, a perfect match to the stout red oak. But as they watched, the ruddy coloring faded from his hair and skin, warm red-brown eyes and tunic and sturdy breeks, to leave a stormy sea's grey-green. They would not have recognized him for the burly woodsman in his prime who appeared before, if they hadn't seen him change before their eyes. When the transformation was complete, Quercus stood before them as the old man of the sea.

His voice, however, was the same. Though he was somber now, and the furrows dug deeper in a more aged face, the lines about his eyes were still laugh lines, seeming to promise that those eyes would laugh again. "Friends, partners," he said. "Firstly and most importantly, _congratulations! _You succeeded, brilliantly, in all you set out to do! Soushu has been evicted from all three of your wells, including the well abandoned by the angels, Yuuri's 'Earth'. Your realities are safe. I am in awe of your accomplishment. Well done!"

Quercus, in his flowing seagreen robes, bowed deeply to the Yuuris, Cecilies, Aldrichs, Shinou, and non-obviously, Bertram in Wolfram's arms beside them. But there was something about his manner that disinvited cheers from the audience. Even the theatrically inclined Ericks stood silent, expectant.

"However," continued Quercus sadly. "I'm afraid the nymphs were not as successful. Garena? Please come out, now."

And Garena - whom they now realized had failed to coexist in this glade with Quercus and the other nymphs before - materialized in the audience, between his brothers Friedrich and his lover King Wolfred. One might have expected him to attend before this king of nymphs in his nymphy aspect, a boy much like Tariel and Salix. Instead, he reminded Yuuri of a James Dean wannabe, in blue jeans, short pomaded hair with escaping blond wisps, black leather jacket, and cigarette hanging from the corner of the mouth. _Wolfram, with extra attitude, _thought Yuuri wryly. _I like it - he looks cool!_ Understandably, most of the onlookers just thought he looked passing strange. Only Yuuri and Murata and Shin-Conrad among them were familiar with this James Dean fashion statement. Kindly Conrad smiled at Garena in gentle understanding. The Muratas and Yuuris grinned.

Then Quercus surprised them all - most especially Garena - by bowing to him. "You were right, Garena. I should have heeded you. The measures you took to limit the damage, to draw out Aldrich Maou's full powers in aid of Lord Aldrich, succeeded brilliantly. And as you warned me… Ponderosa betrayed us all."

As the Mazoku exchanged shocked glances, the sunlight evaporated, until the night sky above them matched the sky they'd just left, above Shinou's temple. Though it was actually no less warm, no more windy on their hill than before, they hugged themselves and shivered beneath the scudding night clouds, in the cold November … _purple moonlight._

"At the end," continued Quercus in a hushed voice, "when the four Maou thrust Soushu out of their reality, Ponderosa and her followers joined him. With their power, with them acknowledging him as rightful greatest one, he did leave your worlds. But alas - he didn't go far." Quercus sadly pointed to the new and dismal purple moon above. "This moon, this dark sister world, now appears in the sky of all three wells, unreachable, yet always in plain view. This is bad enough in the wells of you Mazoku. But I'm sure Yuuri and Murata know without my telling them, how _devastating_ it will prove to the people of the forsaken well. Already facing crushing disaster, the last thing they needed was for their science and reason to abandon them. They '_know' _that another world _cannot just appear, _and yet, it has. Yuuri, the terror, the horror that this _'new moon' _ has created on your birthworld, is just incalculable. I've never more deeply regretted Soushu's decision to remove magic from that world, and leave them with only cold reason. The only solace is that though Soushu's new world is visible, you were successful. The fears and failings of mortals _do not feed him anymore_. Much as this moon can create fear, at least that fear cannot serve_him._

"But - I failed you. Garena warned me that Ponderosa was an implacable enemy, that she and her supporters should be left outside the nymphwall. But I didn't heed him. I believed that they were great nymph, and would abide by our nymph principles, our Great Law. I am… beyond sorry. Rain, Ceres, Tariel, Salix - I call upon you to accept my resignation. I have failed you all, as leader of the nymph. I ask you to choose again."

Rain and Ceres appeared as requested, but bowed low. Tariel and Salix followed their lead. As Rain straightened, she said, "The water nymph choose again. We choose _Quercus_ again. Nothing has changed. You are the greatest among us."

Ceres nodded. "The field nymph choose Quercus again. None could have done better. Only Garena foresaw this danger. But Garena is demon, not nymph. Clearly we have learned to heed his advice. But _he_cannot lead us."

Tariel nodded. "The greater wood nymph follow Quercus. Unanimously. All who opposed you are gone."

Salix nodded. "The lesser wood nymph affirm Quercus. Though - we point out _again,_ that the nymph have slept long. We join Ceres in urging the great nymph to seek and heed the input of the _'lesser'_ ones, who stayed awake, and grew in wisdom while we slept - Tariel, Quercus, Garena, and all the descendants of the fallen angels." With that last, Salix swept an arm to indicate the Mazoku onlookers. Their eyes popped wide at what he implied.

"Like,_now,_ for instance," suggested Garena belligerantly.

Understandably, the Aldrichs peered at their strangeling uncle Garena as though he'd grown three new horns to go with the dangling cigarette. The Cecilies, fingers to lips, seemed lost in contemplation, as though comparing a number of unanswered questions to this comment about_'descendants of the fallen angels'._ The way Shinou gazed at Quercus in dark joy, seemed to speak of four thousand years' delayed vindication. Bertram also looked smug, but then the toddler usually did. Hon-Yuuri was rather lost.

So Shin-Yuuri stood forward alone as spokesgoat for the mortals. He bowed. "We have no basis for deciding who is greatest among the nymphs. Only the nymphs can decide that. But Quercus, and all the nymphs, have our eternal gratitude, and friendship. Was it not a perfect victory? Well, a victory born of conflict never is. We've won the war, but only now can we begin to win the peace. We hope that nymph and demon can work together in peace forevermore. Let the dark moon above serve to remind us, of the danger of fear, the imperative to reach out to find common ground and make friends, rather than succumb to hatred and conflict."

A dubious expression and jabbing elbow from Yuuri's beloved husband and political advisor Wolfram, suggested that Yuuri was beginning to sound pompous. So he just kind of left it at that. Quercus seemed happy enough with the speech, though, and the two leaders traded bows.

_Don't mention the seeds to Quercus,_ Garena's voice came, clear as a bell. Yuuri and Wolfram, and all the others who were aware of Aldrich and Wolfram's new-sneezed seeds, glanced over their shoulders, expecting to see Garena behind them. But the voice had spoken in their minds. Quercus and the other nymphs didn't seem to have heard.

"A wise sentiment," agreed Quercus. It took Yuuri a moment to recall what he himself had been saying - about the moon reminding them of the danger of fearing the _other - _that Quercus was agreeing with.

Bored by Yuuri's speech, and a bit jarred by Garena's warning, Aldrich Maou had time to collect his thoughts. "But perhaps," he interjected, "it would be best if _Mazoku," _Aldrich shot a sour glance at Yuuri - not all Mazoku, including Aldrich, were demons, "Mazoku and nymph formalized their interaction. I feel that the… _direct experiences…_ of this past week were… _disruptive._ And that much of that upset could have been avoided - including the_fear_ His Majesty Yuuri's been speaking of - had nymph and _Maou_ sat down to talk things out." His fellow Maou, and most of the rest in the clearing, nodded emphatically.

"Agreed! My thoughts exactly!" Quercus boomed merrily. Yuuri wryly noted that his abject humility had been very short-lived. Though still grey-green and aged, the eyes of the old man of the sea were twinkling quite merrily now. "And as a step in that direction from the nymph's side, I believe it's time to elevate certain Mazoku back up to the nymph-hood, to restore our ranks from the greatest among you! Of course, present company are regrettably still alive, and possibly not eager to die just yet?"

Quercus addressed this to the Yuuris and Aldrichs, who blinked. _**Regrettably**__ still alive? _But Quercus pressed on quickly. "So some elevations will be delayed. But as a token of our esteem, on this momentous occasion, I believe we can make a start, as a symbolic gesture, of many Mazoku heroes to be elevated in times to come. I call - Princess Tanya, known as Troll Mother, mother to her people and savior of Tariel, and thus all nymphs!"

And suddenly, a ten-foot troll, young again and beautiful - well, as beautiful as Troll Mother had ever been - stood before Quercus, smile stretching her elastic face wide, to showcase her magnificent white tombstone teeth and tearing fangs. "Well, hello, _hello!_You must be Tariel's Quercus! Oh, oh, my! Such a lovely glade! Tariel, it looks just like _your_hill, doesn't it? All the pretty flowers. Well, isn't that clever! Oh, and adorable little_twinsets!_ _Two_ Little Rickys, and Little Frieders, and Alanas, don't you look pretty! -" As always, Yuuri was completely bemused by the accent and ditsy manner, so like his grandmotherly childhood nanny from Minnesota, on this, the most implacable mortal enemy Shin Makoku had ever known.

"Tanya Troll Mother!" Quercus interrupted her, grinning. "You have not yet chosen to reincarnate as a mortal. Would you join us instead, as immortal wood nymph?"

Troll Mother seemed briefly startled, but then smiled most happily. "Oh! Oh, _yes,_ that would be lovely! So hard to decide what to do next, after, well, you know…"

"A high mountain ponderosa pine?" suggested Quercus.

"Oh! Oh, no, I shouldn't think so. Is… well… my favorite tree is taken, though, isn't it, Tariel…"

Tariel smiled warmly. "The dogwood is yours, old friend, if you want it. Pink blossoms to my yellow, perhaps?"

"Yes! Oh, yes," replied Tanya happily, as the towering troll turned into a delicate pink flowering dogwood. One of the slightest of the forest trees, this didn't involve a change of height for Troll Mother. "Pink is my favorite color, don't you know!" Once full grown, the tree gradually turned transparent and disappeared from the center of the clearing. Beyond the circle of Mazoku, a number of yellow dogwood turned pink, though only those with night-sight could see this.

"Next, I call the soul last known as Otto Lord Trondheim!" cried Quercus. And Aldrich's troll-saintly Uncle Otto appeared, and was likewise made nymph. Many of the Tronds, including the Aldrichs, openly wept with joy as Otto took his place amongst the trees of the glade. Otto accepted the dark ponderosa pine assignment without backtalk.

"Well, I think that should do for today, as a start," concluded Quercus. "But when they should choose to step off the wheel of reincarnation, we will also welcome amongst our number - the Great Demon King Shinou! None too soon, I hope, Shinou, let's take a break from each other, shall we? The Great Sage, Daikenjya! Queen Natasha and King Vladimir of the trolls! The loyal priestess Ulrike! The greatest Maou of Shin Makoku's history, the twenty-fifth Maou, Sigfried! And Yuuri Maou, Nymph-Savior, as well, of course! Though, hm, he may wish to take a few more spins around the wheel of reincarnation first, yes? And the soul known as the loyal Daystar of Bielenfeld!" After this Quercus reeled off a number of people and titles that no one in the glade recognized as themselves. Yuuri hoped the _'loyal Daystar'_ referred to Wolfram, but from Lord Aldrich's relieved smile, suspected it might be Manfred.

Quercus' rattling off of unknown names drew to a close. "But of course, these will all become _nymph. _They enrich our councils, but we still need to confer with the _Maou_, to coordinate with the mortals, don't we?"

Aldrich and Yuuri nodded, relieved. "Perhaps my grand-nymph Tariel?" suggested Aldrich Maou.

"Mm, no, sorry," replied Quercus. "That would not be in Tariel's best interests. Besides, I believe we've already found him another calling. Garena."

"What," Garena replied quellingly. "I am _demon,_ not nymph. I do not answer to you, Quercus."

"Agreed. Therefore I name you Prince of Darkness, liaison between immortal nymph and demon. And Mazoku," Quercus allowed, when Aldrich Maou looked ready to quibble again. "Are you willing?"

Garena glanced first to Wolfred. His deadly manic lover was smiling in delight and encouragement, egging him on. Garena's parent Tariel smiled and shrugged. Garena's brother Friedrich smiled with a slow nod of salute. Aldrich Maou looked honestly delighted.

Yuuri looked… bemused. His beautiful Wolfram hissed beside him, like a teapot gathering steam to whistle. Yuuri returned him his earlier elbow jab, and asserted to the nymphs, "Wonderful! A magnificent choice, grandfather Garena! We look forward to working with you_closely, _and having you to answer our nymph-related questions!"

Garena snorted amusement and saluted Yuuri with a finger to his pomaded James Dean hair. "Alright, then. Deal, Quercus. I shall serve as intermediary between nymph and Mazoku. I shall be Prince of Darkness."

Yuuri squelched another incipient hiss from Wolfram, with a meaningful frown. _Ask questions later, love. Just be supportive of Garena, for now._

"Excellent!" boomed Quercus. "Well, I guess that about wraps things up for us. I shall let you say your good-byes, and get back to your own wells. Of course, this well of the two nymphs shall close tonight, _forever."_ He shot a meaningful glance at Tariel and Salix, who assented. "And then your two wells will be safe to continue independently from now on, with no further upsetting cross-talk, hm?" He grinned broadly. "Good-bye, then!" And he disappeared, taking all the spare seedlings and grass and water sounds with him.

Tariel and Salix waved to everyone in a sort of open invitation, _Come see us when you're ready to go._ They didn't look like they expected imminent action. Indeed, they hunkered down to chat with each other.

Many around the glade looked stricken. _Never to see these people again? _Shin-Adelbert and Brendan walked with heavy hearts toward their lost father, King Adeldan. Efram cried out and threw his arms around his dead-cool manic grandfather Wolfred. Hon-Dietrich took a knee to hug his little twin Shin-Dietrich tight. Shin-Conrad, Gwendal, and Cecilie drew aside their counterparts for some intent coaching. Shin-Günter, tears streaming, couldn't rest until he'd hugged and sobbed on every single one of his long-lost Hon-comrades. Hon-Günter Lord Krist looked on calculatingly, soon joined by the lifelong cronies King Wolfred of Bielenfeld and King Julius of Wincott, in low-voiced consultation, punctuated by dark smiles.

Lord Aldrich wasn't making a fool of himself, flitting around like Günter. Nevertheless, tears stood in his eyes. He didn't know where to begin. He couldn't bear to say good-bye forever again, to these dearest departed. He loved the friends and family he had now. But in no way could they _replace _the friends and family who came before.

Yuuri had a lot of questions. But they could as easily be answered back home, when the crisis was entirely put behind them. He had only one good-bye stop to make. He pulled Hon-Yuuri into an embrace-handshake. He murmured, "They're not gone - Okaa-san, Otou-san, Shouri. Mine are yours, and they're safe in my world. I'll send word of them, through Garena, OK? And you can send word to them. It'll be alright, you'll see. You've got Murata, and Aldrich, new allies. Gwendal and Cecilie will be more help to you now. Maybe together you'll be able to reunite Shin Makoku and Hon Makoku, and win back the demon lands from the humans. You can do it. I believe in you. Everything I've done, you can do. And more."

And with a last encouraging smile and shoulder-squeeze to _other-_Yuuri, he turned back to Wolfram and relieved him of Bertram. Wolfram, born long after the dawn of the well of the five kings, had no especial good-byes to say. He andPrince Wolfram had exchanged a guarded handshake and parted ways quickly. So Wolfram was free to get entirely caught up in kissing Yuuri. They were safe together again at last!

_"No kissin! Squish!"_ objected Bertram, stuck between them. "Down!" Yuuri laughed and set him loose. The baby darted through the throng and into Shin-René von Dubois' arms next, where the hiccuping Lord stood laughing with his own umpty-great-uncle Shinou.

"No, Yuuri!" wailed Wolfram. "René," he looked around furtively and lowered his voice, "René has _hiccups!"_

"Ah, yeah?" replied Yuuri, at a loss. Then he rolled his eyes in remembrance. _Oh, yeah, that's why my eleventh Aristocrat doesn't come to meetings. He has hiccups. Oy…_ The Mazoku considered this chronic condition a venereal disease. Yuuri's appeals to the great healers Manfred and Friedrich hadn't helped. They simply confirmed that regardless of what hiccups meant among humans, it was a dread sexually-transmitted disease among demons. '_So uncomfortable, you know, chronic hiccups.' 'Horribly embarassing for poor René. But, hiccups are incurable once it's that advanced.' _

"Ah, Wolfram," said Yuuri, "I don't think René's going to_do_ anything to Bertram. He's fine. And we're fine. And we should get home. Manfred's probably about to have kittens. What do you say we head home first, and let these others say good-bye at their leisure." Yuuri caught Tariel's eye with a meaningful nod.

"Ok, I'll just go get -" And Wolfram found himself still in Yuuri's arms, but suddenly back in the near-empty ballroom at Blood Pledge Castle. The children and servants had long since dropped to bed. Manfred, Annissina, and Shouri turned from a low-voiced conversation by the window.

_"BERTRAM!"_Wolfram wailed. "How could you just leave my baby _behind! _Yuuri, you _IDIOT!" _And he hauled off and hit Yuuri's jaw with a right cross.

Fallen to the floor, rubbing his jaw and throwing off angry blue sparks, Yuuri replied, _"Wolframu…_ I've had just about _enough_ of your Bertram fixation! We have _four children_, and a _newborn infant_, and _I _amyour_ husband!_ We just defeated _Soushu!_ He created a new _moon of evil_ in the sky! Quercus turned Troll Mother and Alana's brother into_nymphs! _Hon-Makoku's Ulrike _died! _Garena is this new so-called _'Prince of Darkness'! _Whatever the hell that means! But do you care? _ABOUT ANYTHING? NO! ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS __**BERTRAM!"**_

A militantly unrepentant Wolfram glared back at him, arms crossed, eyes blazing green defiance. "Yeah, well maybe I wouldn't _worry_ so much about Bertram, if you didn't keep _misplacing _him, you _imbecile!_ Yuuri, you can't take your _eyes _off a toddler for a minute! They have no sense at all! They get into mischief in an _instant!"_

"You have _NO IDEA!" _Yuuri retorted.

Manfred cleared his throat. "And my husband? And Chancellor Gwendal? They'll be along… presently? With... ah…"

_"WITH BERTRAM, YES!" _Yuuri yelled, then winced in remorse, and scratched his head. "Ah… excuse me, Lord Manfred. Yes, they'll be along presently, just saying good-bye. We're… very grateful for all you've done, minding domain and kingdom in our absence. Ah, so how's… stuff?"

-oOo-

_Well of the Two Nymphs_

Bertram and baby Vlad von Trondheim were curled in a sleeping child pile, soon followed by young Dietrich and Efram as the night edged toward dawn. Most of the throng in the glade peeled off by twos as they completed their good-byes. But Aldrich was the ideal choice to close down the party. He wanted to talk to everyone, couldn't bear to let them go. Shin-Günter was just as loath to part with these comrades in arms of his youth, and broke out crying afresh at the slightest excuse. Oddly, Hon-Günter let him. He wasn't agitating for the pair to get back to their own lives. Aldrich assumed he was just taking advantage of this rare opportunity to pester the Kings for military support. And indeed, he did seem to spend an inordinate amount of time conferring darkly with one king after another. And the Kings didn't mind. They were truly amused when Shin-Günter fell on them in a tizzy.

But at last, as the dawn rose over the fens, Lord Aldrich and King Franklin shared one long last embrace and murmured encouragement, as did Franklin with his _other-_son Lord Erick. Aldrich and Erick plucked up their bonelessly sleeping small children, and roused the bigger ones into groggy slumping mobility, to leave.

As the last hold-outs gathered before Tariel and Salix, Wolfred said, "Say, Günter… I wish you could come home on our side, don't you? We miss you so much!"

_"Oh!"_ cried Günter, eyes brimming over yet again, throwing himself into Wolfred's arms for the umpteenth time. "Oh, _yes!_ Oh, I wish I could!"

"Good!" said Wolfred. "Now, Salix."

And they all transported back into the well of the one king, and the well of the five kings. And Shin-Günter pulled out of King Wolfred's arms, in the audience hall of Castle Bielenfeld. The well of the two nymphs, the gateway they'd used to swap worlds, was closed forever. And Günter had gone home to the wrong well.

"No! _**No-oo-oo!**__ Yuuri heika! SAVE ME!"_

-oOo-

_AN: Greta's suggestion that they name the new purple moon 'Neville' refers to 'The Dragon Insurrection' in _**The Trouble with Trolls**_. As hostilities escalated toward war with Trondheim, out of the blue, a dragon took up residence on the roof of Castle Bielenfeld. Pending word from Lord Aldrich on what the hell was going on, the castellan Lord Howard declared a dragon-naming contest, to soothe the public. 'Neville' was the winning entry._

_Please review? Reviews energize me to write the next chapter. You want to reach the end of this story, don't you? I sure do…. _


	17. Winterfair

**Kyou Kara Maou – Well of the Five Kings**

Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is not mine. Its original creator was Tomo Takabayashi, with character design by Temari Matsumoto. The anime was produced by Studio Deen.

_AN: Sorry it's been awhile. This story… there are too many directions to go, and it's hard to pick… So in the end, I just decided to stick to, "It's Christmas." Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

_Oh, for those who haven't read the last chapter of __The Ghosts of Trondheim__, there's been a bit of an arm's race this past year amongst the Aristocrats, for the most extravagant personalized Tark-o-Gram stationery, for birth announcements, wedding invitations, etc._

**Chapter 17 – Winterfair**

_Well of the One King_

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Manfred said softly, as Aldrich stirred and gave a great stretch. As usual, his soft blue cambric nightgown, and the covers, were thoroughly askew. This opened Manfred's view to watch his gymnast-buffed rumpled husband stretch - a treat in itself. Manfred set aside his papers of government, and fully gave himself over to appreciating the play of muscle.

"Mm, how long have I been asleep?" Aldrich asked muzzily.

"About thirty hours, I think. You came in yesterday around dawn, and it's a bit after noon now. Erick gave us the rundown on the closing of the well between worlds last night, when he woke up. I imagine Yuuri's still asleep."

Aldrich nodded and grew thoughtful, and sad. Manfred easily recognized this for the pain of saying good-bye again, to those brothers loved and lost, the dearest friends and relatives of Aldrich's youth. Manfred interrupted that meditation with a slow and thorough kiss. "I hear you gave your heart to my son-in-law. _Give it back."_

Aldrich laughed out loud. "Oh! Wait! Are you _jealous?!_ I don't think I've _ever_ managed to make you jealous of me before! C'mon, Manfred, please? Tell me you're jealous!"

"I ask for emotional reassurance, of your undying love and affection and loyalty for me, and _this_ is what I get? Mockery!"

Aldrich pulled him close, and started unfastening Manfred's pants. "Un-unh. _This_ is what you get. Physical proof. _I love you best. _But first, you have to admit you got jealous. Just a _little?_ Just _once?"_

"You are_ impossible_ to stay mad at! Oh, alright, I admit it, a _twinge_ of jealousy."

"Good! Now prove to me that I'm with _the better man."_ Manfred finished undressing and bent to the task with a will.

-oOo-

"Ah, hello, Dietrich, Trenton," Yuuri greeted the boys amiably enough, though he was somewhat taken aback. After several days sleeping off his showdown with Soushu, Yuuri'd decided to dress and attend formal supper tonight, as a way of easing himself into taking back the reins of the kingdom - tomorrow. Probably. But he found his formal dining room practically paved with huge sheets and rolls of paper and paints. The heirs of Bielenfeld and Gratz were hard at work with brushes, and... _potatoes?_ Yes, young Dietrich was stamping designs and rolling filigrees onto the paper, with a selection of artfully carved potatoes. "Ah, what are you… doing?"

"_'Wrapping paper!'"_ explained Dietrich proudly. "Your Majesty's mother told us about it, how in your world people wrap and decorate Winterfair gifts!"

Trenton nodded enthusiastically. His forehead and blond hair sported inadvertant warpaint stripes of red and green. "We can't go into full production this year, of course. Only a few weeks left til Winterfair. These are samples."

Conrad and Cecilie, Gwendal and Annissina drifted into the dining room behind Yuuri, and joined him to gaze down at the array of garishly decorated papers. Cecilie, eyes a-twinkle, asked, "Do you boys, by any chance, have something to do with the Tark-o-Gram Company?"

"The _'Tarkenburg-DvB Stationery Company'_ is its real name," Dietrich replied. "My father bought me half interest when I was born. Agnes von Tarkenburg ran it, but I bought her out a few years ago. She got too busy having babies."

"Everybody knows us by _'Tark-o-Grams'_, though," observed practical Trenton. "Maybe we should change the company name. I'm his partner now," he added proudly to Cecilie.

"So at last we know who's behind the recent inflationary pressures on Tark-o-Grams," Conrad observed to Gwendal, with a grin.

_"Aldrich,"_ Gwendal hissed back. "Gah!"

"Evening, Gwen," Aldrich returned this as a pleasantry. He and Manfred had just arrived, with Friedrich and Erick and Efram.

_"Boys…"_ Manfred began, aghast at the wreckage of the royal dining room.

"Brilliant marketing event," Aldrich cut in smoothly, "Isn't it, Manfred? Of course, we may have to set the smaller dining room for supper. _Ducks,"_ he observed with a twisted grin. "Is that paper for me, sweet Diet?"

"This is for gifts _from_ me," explained Dietrich. "My Bielenfeld phoenix duck. I'll give presents wrapped in _my_ signature. But see_,_ Manfred, this paper is for you! It'll be printed on gold foil for real, with the grapes and leaves and _MvB_ stamped on it. Then you'd have a blue and gold ribbon - Trenton's developing the ribbons - with a blue tag threaded onto it, embossed in gold, _'a gift from MvB'._ Then you tie it in a bow around the neck of your wine bottles. Easy! It's a much more impressive presentation of your fine wines. And it leaves you free to concentrate on selecting the perfect vintage for each of your friends."

Manfred looked bemused, no doubt envisioning how much time he'd spend selecting the perfect vintage for each person on his gift list. However Friedrich said, "I love it! I like the blue and gold ribbon and _'gift from FvB' _tag. But this year, perhaps a light golden brown foil for me, bourbon colored, with scarlet Trond lizards on the paper. Hard to wrap a bottle in paper, though, isn't it?" Similarly to Manfred, squire to the MvB plantation's rich vineyards, Friedrich's FvB plantation produced a top-shelf bourbon, amongst its less classy riverfront food processing industries. Both men solved their Winterfair shopping problem by simply sending bottles to everyone. Aldrich often did the same, sending AvB vodka, though as a sober alcoholic, he wasn't really happy with the approach. Besides, as luxury items went, AvB vodka ranked somewhere down around FvB's canned peaches.

"We thought of that!" pounced Trenton, who'd hastily grabbed a pencil to take Friedrich's order. "For you and Manfred and Aldrich, we not only print the papers, but have them ready-cut and glued to deliver bags that perfectly fit your bottles! How many would you like?"

Friedrich considered. "Hm, big year, my first daughter's birth, and two new grandchildren. Two thousand bottles ought to do it."

Gwendal's eyes bugged out. But Manfred capitulated. "Alright, sold. Good point about the children, uncle. I'll take sixteen hundred, Trent."

Trenton happily scratched down Manfred's order, and looked expectantly to Aldrich.

"You know," mused Aldrich, "I just _love_ this wrapping concept. It opens up whole new vistas in gift-giving. Say, Erick, how's the rubyfruit crop this year? Could you spare, say, twenty thousand?"

"We're swimming in the stuff," Erick admitted. As a child, he'd dutifully drunk his two-ounce rubyfruit ration with breakfast every evening, the magic potion that fended off malnutrition and scurvy in the high mountains. Lately his crimson grapefruity dose seemed to be arriving in beakers. "It's yours."

"Excellent! How much do you want for it?"

"No - it's _yours,_" restated Erick. "They're your rubyfruit trees. I can't charge you for rubyfruit."

"Oh, Erick, you're so _sweet!_ Thank you!" Yuuri and his advisors traded grins - only Aldrich would characterize Erick as _'sweet'. _ Aldrich chided, "But, Erick, you'll never get your treasury into the black that way. You've got to look at the _value-added proposition._ Let's say, one and a quarter daistra apiece for each gift-quality rubyfruit, delivered wharf-side Castletown. And I want at _least_ twenty thousand, so allow plenty for spoilage. Oh, and I'll pay your people to stay on, and deliver wrapped gifts back to Walde and Trondheim. And I need them by next week. So you add _extra _for the rush job. You, too, Trent."

Erick grinned, brilliant white fangs flashing merrily in the candlelight. _"Absolutely!"_

As Gwendal and Conrad looked on in open-mouthed horror, Aldrich turned back to dictate to Trenton, "I want 9 rubyfruit per gift box, so I need a nice outer box, and an inner 3x3 tray for the fruit, kinda like cardboard egg crates but bigger. Then, the four corner fruit will be wrapped one each in scarlet and brown, blue and gold foil. We'll leave the four side fruit unwrapped, to showcase the rubyfruit's natural beauty. Then I want the center one wrapped in a random selection from Efram's sketches, you know, the rare races reborn last winter in Trondheim. _Plus_ each of our children - hm." Aldrich frowned.

"Widen it out," suggested Manfred, instantly grasping the problem. _The nine rubyfruit represent our seven children, plus the two of us. But we can't call my Kieran and Bertram __**our**__ children, because they were adopted. _ "Include your baby sister, your god-daughter Kieran, my grandchildren Ekaterin and Bertram, Greta of course… Efram, you can do some more sketches, hm?"

"Perfect!" said Aldrich, with a warm smile. "By next week," he reminded Trenton. "Oh, and twenty-two hundred tags and ribbons, of course. The outer box - Lord Manfred, you're giving me back Bielenfeld, right? Yeah, so, from-me-as-Lord-Bielenfeld, standard gold phoenix on Bielenfeld blue for the box. Only the tag gets my AvB monogram."

An empurpled Gwendal looked about ready to pop. But Dietrich - who'd hurriedly scrubbed the paint off his hands - tugged at his sleeve. "Please, Brother Gwendal, Sir?" Gwendal hadn't authorized this extension of step-brother's half-brother to Brother, but didn't care to correct the boy, either. He was a bit of a sucker for the diffident blond boy's delightful manners, so at odds with Gwendal's _other_ blond baby brother.

Dietrich carried a huge looseleaf portfolio, and opened it to a page of beautifully colored designs. "I had these drawn for you, Sir, in case you wanted a Tark-o-Gram or something one day. Wrapping paper would be perfect for them. See, this is a Walde gryphon - wouldn't that dark green look nice on gold foil? And Sister Annissina, here's a Khrennikov mermaid I thought you might like. My artists are goblins, from the Walde Home for Disabled Goblins in Twinhall."

One could tell Gwendal really, _really_ liked the green Walde gryphon. "The… Walde what?" asked Gwendal.

"The Walde Home. Your father Lord General Hugh endowed it quietly, after the Great War, to care for abused and disabled goblins. They're wonderful artists."

"Mm," sighed Cecilie, with a wistful smile. She nodded to Gwendal to corroborate the story.

"Could I have the mermaid wield a golden trident?" inquired Annissina. "A _big _one, the size of her tail flukes. Maybe attacking a rat? Mm, no, skip the rat, just the trident."

"Ahem, Annissina! _We_ don't send… _thousands_ of Winterfair gifts like the von Bielenfelds! _No one_ does!"

"Actually, _Gwennie,_ no one sends them to _us. _ Except _them._ Because _you're_ a miser," observed Annissina. "Though I don't know what we'd send."

"I love those little spice cookies they make in Bruscella," suggested Aldrich. The half-human sanctuary of Gegen Huber's Bruscella sat at the Walde base of the Trondheim Escarpment. "You know the ones, Erick - they serve them at the elevator way station?"

"Yeah, I love those. And those Maou scones from Lutenberg - nice shade of purple," replied Erick on cue. Though technically Bruscella was part of Walde, both cities were really Conrad's turf. They were throwing a bone to their autonomist coalition partner Conrad.

In appreciation for this, Conrad looked daggers at Erick. Dietrich flipped a page. "Brother Conrad, Mama-chan sketched this for you. I think it looks more like a sword than a flower, but she called it a _fleur-de-lis. _Maybe that, in your colors, on silver? _And,"_ the boy flipped some more large pages, "Tante Cecilie, I had these drawn for you - your flowers, Secret Gwendal, Conrad-Stands-Upon-the-Earth, Beautiful Wolfram, and - Cheri's Sigh?" It was just like Dietrich to memorize something so thoughtful.

"Oh!" cried Cecilie. "Sweet-Diet, they're beautiful! These drawings are from Hugh's home for goblins, too? You can _count_ on my placing an order, darling."

"Squid cakes," suggested Annissina. Gwendal stared at her, _hard._ "They're a _delicacy_ in Khrennhaven, _Gwennie._ The manufacture of squid cakes is an important women's cottage industry, empowering the widows of seamen -"

"I love their _soap,"_ interrupted Aldrich. "Their fine seaweed soaps do wonders for dry winter skin. Giving them as gifts might increase demand, extend their market reach across Shin Makoku."

Annissina grinned in triumph. "Soap it is, then! From _me,"_ she added to Gwendal, who grimaced. He hadn't realized that his wife intended they _both_ spend money hand over fist on Winterfair. "_Gwennie!_ You're the _Chancellor, _ you have to think of your _social position!"_

Gwendal swallowed. "Yes, dear. Little gryphon bags with tags, to fit a couple dozen cookies each. A… _thousand." _ He swallowed harder. He wasn't at all sure he could come up with a thousand people to send gifts to, but if _Manfred_ could send sixteen hundred… Of course, he'd neglected to consider that the three Lords von Bielenfeld were retired military commanders _and _ professors at the Institute _and_ Aristocrats, and thus had scores of ex-students and ex-subordinates, as well as fellow squires and Lords to lob bottles at. And in practice, their gift-giving habit was good marketing.

"Yes, Sir, Lord Chancellor! Thank you, Sir!" said Trenton, writing up the order.

Diet flipped a few more pages. "And Lord Erick? These designs I have double, one for night sight, and one for day. They look the same, to the other eyes."

"Really?" Erick studied the dual designs with interest. To Yuuri, the night-sight one looking impossibly garish and chunky, the white-outlined colors downright weird, but the smaller light-sight device was quite elegant. Both were the standard Trond ouroboros - a ten-legged lizard chomping its own tail, a mystical symbol of the cycle of life and death. But Erick sighed regret. "That's wonderful, Dietrich, if you could find a printer who can manufacture both at quality. But even if you could, I can't afford this gifting game."

"You might be surprised, Lord Erick," suggested Dietrich. "First, we do all our printing now in Twinhall - your hometown, Sir. I'm delighted with their prices and quality, so our wrapping paper will be manufactured in Trondheim. That will keep your costs down, since most of your gifts will never leave the mountains. Also, I'd like to promote _The Book of Babes_, which comes out in a few months. Tarkenburg-DvB is the publisher. Several of the pictures and essays in Efram's book are from your own von Trondheim royal family."

Dietrich handed Erick a sheet of calculations. "If you were willing to send out our book excerpt, just the pages on your own family, to your Winterfair gifting list, it would all be marketing for Trond-manufactured products. If we combine that with your monthly newsletter to each Trond hall, plus send maybe a hundred down below… They're not much bigger than a deluxe Tark-o-Gram. And I'd split the cost with you. So we could do it for _this."_ He pointed to the bottom line, considerately written for Erick's eyes, in huge blocky letters.

Erick's eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. He passed the page to Aldrich. "Am I taking charity from your son, now, Rick?"

Aldrich glanced briefly at the paper, shrugged, and handed it back. "I trust Dietrich's numbers. As for charity, my son's going to make a mint selling from the quality and capacity of Twinhall's paper mills. Take him up on the deal, and enrich Trondheim. Oh, but Diet - on the down-below versions, leave off Ilya's essays on -" Aldrich indicated Yuuri with a slight jerk of the head.

"Yes, Chichiue," Dietrich nodded dutifully. "Maybe I should leave them off the night vision exerpts, too?"

"No!" cried Erick. "Oh, include Ilya's religious essays! Those are excellent, especially - oh. No, we've _got_ to include Ilya's vision of the Yuuri moon. It came true! And it'll make people feel better, and more at-one with the down-below. _Definitely._"

"Ah - _'Yuuri moon'_ ?" Yuuri inquired.

"The new moon," explained Greta, who'd joined them. "We named it after you, Yuuri. You see, Ilya had this vision of a purple moon named Yuuri, with Morgif's face on it, that symbolized the Blessed Yuuri stretching forth his protection over all the nations and races, Mazoku and human alike. That's perfect, so we went ahead and named the moon Yuuri. To go with the sacred writings of the cult of Yuuri the Savior." She beamed at him happily.

Yuuri smiled back at his daughter, the kind of pasted-on smile that hurt the jaw muscles. "What _'cult of Yuuri the Savior'_ ?" he inquired, as pleasantly as he could manage.

"Um," replied Greta, desperately looking back over her shoulder for Wolfram. He sheepishly arrived last to supper with Adelbert and the damp-haired Bertram and Frieda. Clearly an emergency rebathing had held them up. "Chichiue Wolfram, you didn't even _tell him_ about it?"

Erick looked crestfallen. "Aw, hell. You mean the prophecy didn't come true? Instead we _made _ it come true?"

"_We _ didn't make a new purple moon," said Manfred, defending his choice as acting Chancellor. "I just told everyone else Yuuri made it, like Ilya said he would. People looking at the moon in fear is exactly what the enemy wanted. Much better that it be a good omen. Especially after all the well-merging craziness, the evil storm, and the sudden deaths from Earth plague, before we got Yuuri's _'in-laws'_ in quarantine."

"Oh, I'd wondered if quarantine might be wise," said Friedrich, while Yuuri was still gaping. "With the usual run of starving refugees, of course we would. But they seemed quite healthy?"

"Walking epidemics, the lot of them," said Manfred. "A few months' graduated quarantine should work out most of it, but a few are contagious permanently. Some of the most diabolical venereal diseases I've ever seen, Friedrich - you'd _love_ them."

"Oh, really! Worse than hiccups? I shall have to go visit. Are Yuuri's parents in quarantine, too? I hope they're not penned up with the sexual lepers."

Dietrich made a face and looked imploringly at his father to stop this talk of _sex_. Yuuri strongly sympathized, his fingers twitching into fists at the idea of his parents being quarantined to prevent them from spreading venereal disease. Aldrich murmured, "Dietrich has a point, Father. Let's only discuss venereal disease at supper, not the sexually-transmitted ones." Friedrich nodded a solemn apology to Dietrich.

"I'm sorry, Chichiue," said Wolfram softly. "It's my fault that -"

Yuuri looked at his beloved in concern. _Funny, he hasn't been in our room when I've drowsed awake. I haven't seen him since just after the battle. He looks despondent._ Yuuri assayed a soft smile at him, and put a hand on his back. Wolfram just cast his eyes down in shame.

"None of that, pretty vixen," replied Manfred. "You're still a novice at public health_. However,_ _I_ should have thought of quarantine sooner."

"Sounds like you reacted promptly and successfully once you realized the danger," replied Aldrich. "I think you did a brilliant job, Manfred! On public health and welfare, as Lord Bielenfeld, _and _ as Chancellor. Don't you agree, Gwen?"

Yuuri nodded whole-heartedly, and shook Manfred's hand.

"Um, yeah, thank you, Lord Manfred," Gwendal grumbled. "Can we eat yet?"

Alas, Wolfram and Adelbert had taken their eyes off Bertram and Frieda during this exchange. Now the children squealed in glee. Bertram's feet were out of his shoes and plastered with red and green paint, Frieda's hands in yellow and blue. Both busily applied their body-part stamps to a stretch of honey-bear bee potato-printed paper, which Dietrich obviously intended for Wolfram.

"_We _ make paper for Chewy and Wimpy!" Frieda cried proudly.

"Me, too!" said Bertram. "Bite me! Heheh."

Thus invited, Frieda obligingly bit his leg.

Bertram screamed in hurt and terror, and catapulted into Wolfram's arms, leaving red and blue footprints all across the room, and up Wolfram's formal dinnerwear. A horrified Adelbert delivered Frieda a few sharp spanks. Not a girl to back down easily, Frieda screamed like a banshee and raked her father's face with her paint-smeared nails. Humiliated, Wolfram and Adelbert headed off to the nursery for bathing _again._ Bathing themselves, that is - no doubt the children would be dumped on the nannies.

After a long pause, Yuuri replied to Gwendal, "Yeah. Let's eat." The group turned and headed for the more casual dining room. "So, Conrad. You remember Christmas in the States, don't you? My mother adored it, all the shopping and lights, and never let up after we returned to Tokyo. Somehow, I didn't think the cultural contamination would work quite this fast. A commercialized Winterfair..."

Conrad nodded sad agreement as they passed into the hall.

"Where's Günter, by the way?" asked Yuuri.

Erick supplied, "He left after I decked him. The Günters chose to swap worlds, so we've got the Evil One now. Took us by surprise."

"Erick, you want to be careful with that," suggested Conrad. "You're awfully big to go around decking demons. You could kill a man with one blow."

Erick stared him down with blank black sunglasses. "He poked me in the chest about ten times, outlined his plan to castrate every troll and drunken elf, to prevent us from spawning. Hit him to shut him up."

"I see. This is going to be fun," Yuuri allowed. "You don't suppose… No, I'm sure the nymphs wouldn't have swapped them without Günter's permission. Surprising, though, as you said. Isn't that a one-way trip? He didn't even say good-bye."

Manfred dawdled behind, holding back his husband in the dining room. "Aldrich, _darling,_" he prompted. He gritted his teeth and held up his hands to indicate, _the state of this room._

"Hm? Oh, yeah! Boys, great job! Wrap this up and join us for dinner. Be sure to tip the servants extra. And Dietrich - I want you to expense the tips properly this time. They're not operating costs, they're…?"

_"'Marketing entertainment expense'_ ," supplied Dietrich.

"Good boy! So - dinner?"

"Actually, _beloved,_ I was suggesting they clean up after _themselves,"_ complained Manfred.

"Well, that's just silly, _studmuffin._ You wouldn't want _them_ cleaning your dining room. They'd smear paint everywhere, leave puddles under the chairs, and then the servants would have to work twice as hard later. Respect the skill of the professionals, _I_ say. And pay them handsomely for it."

Dorcas and Doria, the sample professionals waiting by the door, nodded their heads emphatically in agreement.

-oOo-

"Hello? Is someone in here?" Yuuri called softly at the door to the kitchens. He'd heard someone clanging around, but the room was pitch dark. It was well past midnight. Yuuri'd intended to spend some quality time with the skittish Wolfram. But Wolfram had been called away hours ago, to assess quarantine needs on another outbreak of Earth influenza in the garrison. Yuuri'd ventured out hoping to catch him and bring him to bed.

"Yes, Sire, it's just me," Aldrich called out. "Oh - sorry." A couple candles bloomed into light, stuck into wine jugs on the worn kitchen table, where Sanguria and her minions worked and ate and gossiped incessantly. But they'd long since gone to bed. Aldrich had apparently been cooking for himself. He slid an enormous omelette, bursting with veggies and mushrooms and cheese, onto a plate. "Want some? I've got tea steeping, too."

"Ah - sure, if you have enough." Aldrich appeared to have enough for a family of four._ "_Couldn't get to sleep again just yet?"

"No. Well, I think my body'd be willing. That Maou thing you do really wears you out, doesn't it? But, my head's … busy. And I didn't want to keep Manfred up."

Now that his eyes were adjusting, Yuuri could see that Aldrich's eyes looked a bit bruised and puffy. He'd been crying here alone in the dark, cooking. "Everything alright, my Lord Bielenfeld?" he inquired softly.

"Certainly, Sire," Aldrich replied formally.

"Ah - call me Yuuri," Yuuri replied, then laughed at himself. Aldrich gave him a lopsided green-eyed grin in return. "Right, I shouldn't have called you Lord Bielenfeld, then. Sorry. I just - Truth is, ever since I woke up, I've been worrying about Wolfram and that… you giving your… heart… to me… thing."

Aldrich easily decoded this for the non-question question it was. "I'm a tutoring professor of unconditional love, Yuuri. I take on the students who'd have trouble loving their own mothers, or even their _dogs._ Which means I have to love some of the most unlovable people you'll ever meet, into loving _themselves,_ until they can love _others._ Wolfram knows that. Intellectually." They both chuckled.

Then Aldrich allowed, "Of course, you're not one of _them._ It was no effort to give you my heart. I _do_ love you, Yuuri. It's an honor and a privilege to call you my liege lord. And husband to my stepson. And hopefully, friend. And you're pretty damned attractive as well. _But!_ I'm head over heels in love with Manfred, and have been for over a century. And no offense, but you're what, a tenth my age? No, Wolfram's got nothing to worry about from me. Though, I must admit, _Manfred_ did insist on hearing me say so. I kinda liked it, actually."

Yuuri smiled broadly, and breathed out tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "No offense taken. Thank you, Aldrich. I feel very much the same way about you. Including the honor and privilege. You made a good Maou. I almost feel an imposter as your liege lord now. Sure you don't want my job?"

Aldrich smiled and poured the tea. "He was Maou over _Hon_ Makoku, not _Shin_ Makoku, Yuuri. Shin Makoku would not accept a Trond overlord. I was never a contender here. And _you_ are a contender for greatest Maou of all time. Though I don't think you've _quite_ exceeded the twenty-fifth at sheer Maou-craft, _yet._ Getting damned close, though, and you haven't been at it as long as he was, _yet._ And in the theological realm, you've already far exceeded him."

Yuuri was basking in the compliment. It meant a great deal to him to have someone as talented as Aldrich praise him. The reservation about the twenty-fifth Maou actually strengthened the statement. No gushy excessive praise like Günter's came from _this_ vassal. But then Aldrich had to remind Yuuri of his recent apotheosis. "I'm, ah, not entirely comfortable with this _'Yuuri Messiah'_ business, Aldrich. Is there any way I could…?"

"Duck out? No. Well, I suppose you could die young, but we'd rather you didn't."

"Ah, thanks. I mean it's… but… I didn't… You're a theologian, right? This is a… _farce._ I'm not a… _god._ "

Aldrich looked at him sympathetically. "I tend to disagree, Yuuri. What definition, a god? Acts like a duck, quacks like a duck. The Yuuri cult calls you the redeemer of the drunks, the salvation of the ghosts of Vladimir's Last Stand, the resurrection of the races of Trondheim, the Boom Falls Messiah. Who sealed the deal with a nifty new Maou-colored purple moon. These things are_ true,_ Yuuri. You perform miracles. You saved my people. Shinou was a god. So are you. I don't imagine that's very comfortable. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm _not._ If you got too comfortable with your deification, started demanding people bow down and worship you, I'd be near the head of the lynch mob working to curb your enthusiasm. But I thank all the _other_ gods for sending _you. _"

"_'Head of the lynch mob'_ ," Yuuri echoed wryly. "Thank you for your love and support, Aldrich. Funny thing is, I agree with you on that one. If it ever does go to my head, yeah, please, _'curb my enthusiasm'._ Though I've no wish to become a martyr."

The sun went out on Aldrich's expression. "Wise choice," he murmured, and sadly applied himself to his omelette.

"Thanks for listening, Aldrich," Yuuri said softly. "But, you never told me what your head was spinning about, before."

And Yuuri gently coaxed Aldrich into talking. About Aldrich's martyr Uncle Otto, first Lord Trondheim, father to Aldrich's own foster brother Franklin. About the lunatic-and-space-cadet team of the foster brothers Wolfred von Bielenfeld and Julius von Wincott. The affable _big_ big brother Adeldan von Gratz, husband to Aldrich's pseudo-sister Sophie, and how they'd been so happy together, until their son Adelbert ran off with Manfred to join the army too young. And Glynda, the vivacious happy wife, who could have been saved from a life of desperate madness and misery, by a simple drop of water. As Yuuri continued to make encouraging noises, the tears flowed.

"I keep thinking, I shouldn't have avoided Glyn, you know? I should have faced her, told her, in the other well. Or Diet - maybe I should have let Dietrich see her. I should have _loved_ instead of _protected._ But I was too scared for us. Scared of Glynda, being well and happy. How warped is that… I thought of pulling what Günter did, going back to be with them again. That's insane! I love my life. I've never been so happy as I am with Manfred now, but… I miss them, Yuuri, oh _gods_ I miss them! When I confronted Soushu, that's what I was thinking. We demons don't get old, we just can't bear to keep going after a while, after so many have gone on before us…"

Yuuri stepped around the table to cradle his friend's head on his chest, and stroked his hair while he cried.

"Yuuri," breathed Wolfram. He'd walked in to see them like this, in the intimacy of the wine jug candles, stolen away in the dark kitchens. _"You -_ !" And he turned stiffly, starting to flee with dignity.

_"LORD WOLFRAM!"_ barked Aldrich. "Get back here! You're not _nearly_ as cute as your father when you get jealous."

_"You -, you -"_ Wolfram spluttered.

"Ah, Wolfram," said Yuuri. "This isn't what it looks like…"

But apparently Wolfram wasn't speaking to Yuuri. He puffed up in his best injured pomposity, and demanded, "My Lord Aldrich, you gave your heart to my husband when I could not. I… I _failed_ His Majesty and Shin Makoku_. _What are your intentions now?"

From his crying, Aldrich was too wrung out emotionally to give this any credence. "Wolfram. Sit. Eat." Aldrich mopped his face while Wolfram sat, ramrod straight at attention, eyes fixed on Aldrich, pointedly ignoring Yuuri. Aldrich sighed. "Wolfram… I gave my heart to Yuuri because I could. I do love him, and I love you. It doesn't change anything. As for you _'failing'_ _-_ hells, Wolfram. Your baby Bertram was possessed by Soushu. When the _other_ Dietrich was possessed by Soushu, I could barely keep my mind on what I was doing. But if _my_ baby was possessed - ! I would have been a basket case!"

"But - he _was._ Dietrich was possessed by Soushu, too," Wolfram said without thinking. "And you kept your head -"

_"What?!"_ Aldrich was out of his chair like a rocket.

Fortunately, Manfred moseyed in about then, carrying the baby twin Avram. "Nice going, pretty vixen," he commented wryly. "Aldrich, honey – _Dietrich_ is fine. You will not run into his room, wake him in the dead of night, and flip him out. Right, honey? Here. Hold another baby. What's with the convention in the kitchen?"

Aldrich reluctantly sank back into his chair. Clutching affable little Avram clearly helped. "Why are you up? Something wrong with my mellow fellow? He's not fussing."

"No, Avram's fine. Thomas woke me because Efram was whacked with remorse over Frieda biting Bertram," explained Manfred. "Efram felt it was all his fault. And foxy friend woke up, too, so I brought him along."

"Just _'foxy'_ ," corrected Aldrich. "Not _'foxy friend'._ That was Wolfred's name for _you,_ Manfred." Sadness stole over his face again. Manfred stroked his back. "_That's_ what Yuuri and I were talking about, Wolfram. I was just… grieving absent friends, all over again. Your husband's virtue is intact."

"Thomas?" inquired Yuuri, a step or two behind in the conversation, as often happened with his in-laws.

"Our valet," Aldrich reminded Yuuri, but asked Manfred, "What's Thomas doing here?"

Manfred replied, "Friedrich wouldn't leave until he was sure you and Dietrich were OK, and Thomas couldn't wait any longer to see Friedrich, so…"

Aldrich looked at him puzzled. "Our head servant," he stated blankly.

Manfred shook his head and smiled gently. "As in, some servants give better head than others?"

"He -! _D'oh!_" Aldrich laughed softly at himself, and chalked up a point in thin air, that Manfred had got him. "All these years I've been wondering if my old man were celibate, or just really, _really_ discreet. And all the while he had a live-in lover in his own apartment. And this has been going on…?"

"Probably inherited the valet with the castle," confirmed Manfred. "Thomas helped Friedrich raise the four of you, after all. _Discreetly,_ of course. He always says, the best place to hide something is in plain view." He hugged Aldrich's head. "Let's go back to bed, hon."

"Ah, Wolfram," said Yuuri, as the older men decamped. "I actually came down here looking for you.Are you ready to come to bed, my love? My only love."

"You're not… disappointed in me?" Wolfram asked querulously.

Yuuri held his eye with a soft smile, and took him in his arms. "Never, love. A little jealous of Bertram sometimes, maybe."

Wolfram gave him a tender little mock punch. "Oh, Yuuri! I _do_ give my heart to you! But the children…"

"I know. And I love you for it. Let me show you. In bed."

-oOo-

_Well of the Prince of Darkness_

Though everyone wondered what exactly it meant that Garena was the _'Prince of Darkness'_ - and whether Good Günter might ever come back - Garena was his usual forthcoming self. He didn't show up, so they couldn't ask him. Good intentions of _'getting things back to normal' _were gradually abandoned by mutual consent, in favor of just sliding into the two-week Winterfair visiting season early this year, and stretching it out to a month. Likewise good intentions of _'getting explanations from the nymphs'_ were sort of let go. The Mazoku Aristocrats had more or less had their fill of nymphs for a while.

Winterfair was already in full swing, on the day the von Bielenfelds had appointed for exchanging their ever-so-well-wrapped gifts, when Garena appeared, and waylaid Manfred on his way to the bedecked audience chamber for the unwrapping.

"Well, welcome, Garena," Manfred greeted him guardedly. "I'm glad to see you for the holidays." Though, he wasn't.

"Come with me," invited Garena. He led Manfred out into the box maze behind Castle Bielenfeld, where Aldrich had grown the saplings that birthed their twins and Wolfram and Yuuri's Ekaterin, scarcely two months before. En route, in lieu of explanation, Garena said, "There's someone who wants to talk to you."

The winter-bare saplings of Foxy, Moxy, and Kat, sitting forlorn in the snow, had been joined by three new saplings, planted after the garden had been put to rest for the winter.

"What…?" asked Manfred. "Wait a minute - those _seeds!_ Aldrich and Wolfram's seeds! I put them in my drawer, and then - ! This is _them_, isn't it? How _dare _you!"

"We'll talk after," Garena demurred. "_This_ tree," he said, touching a small magnolia tree, "is the tree of the Prince of Darkness. Please hold my hand."

Manfred frowned at the proffered hand for several long seconds, before he grudgingly took it. In the year and a half since the revelation that Garena was Manfred's _'father-father'_, the relationship between the two men had failed to warm. To some extent, this was due to Garena's seeming disinterest and dislike for his long-lost son. But for his part, Manfred wasn't an easy oyster to open emotionally at any time. He already had a father in Wolfred, whose memory he honored, and a mother in Phoebe, with whom he shared a comfortably mutual dislike of long standing. He wasn't in the market for a third parent. Aldrich and Friedrich's occasional attempts to bridge the gulf between Garena and Manfred had pretty much fallen flat.

But because Manfred figured this was _his own child-tree_, he took Garena's hand, and Garena grasped a branch. And instantaneously, they stood before the same little magnolia, but on Tariel and Garena's hill in the Krist Fens, in the full bloom of springtime. The others would have recognized it as being much like the well of the two nymphs. But Manfred hadn't seen it since infancy.

"Manfred… oh, my beautiful foxy friend," Wolfred said from behind him. Manfred whirled to look in astonishment. Wolfred strode forward and grasped him by both arms, drinking him in with his eyes, glowing with joy. "Oh, to see you again! When the wells crossed, it was _agony,_ everyone coming and going and talking about you, and everyone could see you except me…" Wolfred swallowed, tears welling over and down his cheeks. "And Manfred, I so wanted to see you! I've hounded Garena night and day and twice at sunset ever since then, and _demanded _to see you!"

Manfred stared. It took a moment to adjust for the change in age. For of course Wolfred had died when he was younger than Manfred was now. And in Manfred's memory, himself and Wolfram, whose resemblance was _so_ strong, both looked like Wolfred. Yet he could see now that Wolfred looked more like a medium-tall Friedrich. White-blond hair tufted out behind his ears, in a lanky wild lynx sort of look, over narrower, piercing green eyes. "I… look like Garena?" Manfred said wonderingly.

"You sure do!" Wolfred laughed. "And good on ya! Well, you look like me, too. But mostly you look like _you_ - _the _most beautiful boy I've ever seen." He gazed on Manfred in rapture another moment, then cocked his head to one side with a soft laugh. "But you're not really much like him, are you? My Manfred. So much harder. So much more like _me._"

Manfred had started to pull away in discomfort at being compared to his flower-child _other_ he'd heard so much about. But he stopped in surprise when he realized Wolfred wasn't complaining. "Do you… mind?"

"Mind!? No. Tragic, though. You could be sweetness and light, and die young. Or I could die young, and you could be hard as nails in my place." Wolfred sighed, and smiled with a depth of compassion that simply never had time to mature, before he'd died as this Manfred's father. "I've heard what you've suffered through. I'm so sorry. But it's formed you well." Wolfred nodded solemnly, in approving appraisal. "You're a strong man, and a good one. I was so proud to hear of you taking on public health and welfare. _And_ Lord Bielenfeld _and_ Lord Chancellor on top of that, during the crisis. And _seven_ kids, good _ghouls,_ Manfred, what were you _thinking?_ A man to rely on, when the going gets rough. The highest virtue of the von Bielenfelds. I'm proud of you, son."

"Even though I'm not like him?"

"Argh! You see, _that's_ why I had to see you myself!" Wolfred took Manfred's chin in his hand and looked him straight in the eye with a feral green-eyed demon smile. "I _adore_ you, my foxy friend. You _lived, _and thereby confounded your enemies! Don't you know that could only make me love you _more?"_ And he held Manfred's eye until his son matched his leer perfectly. "_That's _my son! _So!_ You fell in love with my Nunkie, huh? I pounded the pretty little troll for that!"

Manfred laughed out loud. "Yeah, thanks, I had to patch him up afterward! We adore each other, Chichiue. We're maddeningly different. But we delight in each other's existence. Yeah, we fell in love."

Wolfred nodded. "Like me and Garena. OK, then. I'll let Nunkie off the hook, but _only_ because he makes you happy."

"Speaking of which… He's waiting for me now. And the kids and Friedrich. To open Winterfair gifts." Manfred said it with vast reluctance. To see his father again, and have his father _approve _of him, was a gift beyond dreaming. But, Aldrich and the kids would go mental if he disappeared now, and hell knew what crazy stunt the visiting Yuuri and Wolfram might get up to. Those two always went off half-cocked.

"Nope!" cried Wolfred. "This well lies outside time and space, Garena's own personal universe. We'll return the same instant we left, no matter what time we spend here. Getting Garena to bring us here _again_ might take some doing, though. Please, foxy friend, stay with me a while. I've missed you so."

At this mention of Garena, Manfred glanced around. "Speak of the devil. Where'd he get to?"

Wolfred nodded. "Yeah, _that's_ part of why you need to stay. It's high time you and Garena fell in love all over again. And that might take some doing. Because emotionally, foxy friend? _You_ take after _him! _So I'm not letting _either _of you go, until you're father and son again! Because _I say so!_"

And Wolfred _always_ got his way. The man was a force of nature.

-oOo-

There were ten seeds altogether, growing in the Aldrichs and Wolframs during the showdown with Soushu. As they'd seen before, great magic whilst _'pregnant'_ resulted in far more powerful seeds than usual. Though - the gentle loving magic of the Midsummer Calling resulted in their children. Like the more desperate magic of restoring the long-dead races, the showdown with Soushu, created… _something else._

But that's another story.

-oOo-

**The End.**

-oOo-

_Sorry, this overlong story hasn't come easily. Thank you to all those who stuck with it to the end! _

_I may take a long break from writing fanfiction. Or maybe add some more vignettes to __Shining Moments__**.**__Maybe the tale of the first wedding - Annissina vs. the Rats. Or Aldrich and the Rubyfruit. Or The Year of Evil Günter. Or maybe just give it a rest with KKM, and finally get back to my Legal Drug sequel-prequel. If you care, please say so..._

_Update: I finally started another story in this arc, __The Disaster Up North_,_ the tale of Greta selecting a husband against the backdrop of the worst disaster ever to befall Shin Makoku._

_Please review? Reviews energize me to write again._


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